


We Are Golden

by mveloc



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-02-10 11:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2023011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mveloc/pseuds/mveloc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Cophine one-shots with an AU high school setting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We've Got Spirit (How Bout You?)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first in a collection of Cophine one-shots I've been working on. Each one is a high school AU featuring our favourite scientists. Some will be smutty, some will be fluffy, some will be angsty. This is mostly just something I have a lot of fun writing and doesn't really fit in the other pieces I'm working on, so I figured I'd just gather them all here.

Lunch is her favourite period.

Most people automatically assume that honor falls to second period, based purely on the fact that Biology currently occupies that time slot. This assumption would have been correct a month ago; that was before she spent an hour every morning for the last three weeks huddled over a microscope with a certain blonde pressed firmly against her side, the two of them sharing glances at the cell underneath, scribbling their findings on a sheet of paper. Every second she spends at the blonde’s side is agonizing in ways she, for all her wisdom, doesn’t fully comprehend. She’s careful not to let her eyes linger too long on one area, like the lower lip she’s always chewing on or her perfect mess of curls she’s always raking such deft and nimble fingers through. Cosima is mature for her age, wise beyond her years, and yet every day when Delphine sits down next to her in Bio class, she turns into a giant ball of teenage hormones and it’s reaching a painful boiling point.

The semester hadn’t started off so bad. Of course, she took notice of the blonde the second she first walked through the door, but her feelings were somehow manageable from a distance. Delphine had claimed the unmanned desk at the very front of the room while Cosima sat at the very back, where she was able to gawk without fear of exposure. Transferring a couple of weeks into the semester meant that the foreign girl was the only one in the class without a lab partner, but her solitude was excused. Instead of forcing her to join another team, Mr. Roberts had let her fly solo, probably because of her stellar grasp of the subject matter. Cosima was initially jealous; Scott was the best possible lab partner, but she was incorrigible in her pursuit of knowledge and having to share a microscope and wait for Scott to catch up to her overly quick deductions meant that she was sacrificing time and resources she could be using to propel herself even further ahead of the class. Delphine was free to move at her own pace, answering to nobody, and it was a freedom that left the brunette green with envy. This changed, however, when Scott’s dad was offered a job in Minnesota and the awkward young boy was spirited away to the bowels of the Midwest. With both girls sans a lab partner, there was only one logical solution.

“Since we’re evenly numbered now,” Mr. Roberts had proclaimed. “Delphine, why don’t you join Cosima? I’m sure she’s feeling a little lonely back there all by herself.”

His suggestion sent an icy pang through her chest, causing her entire body to lock up. Delphine turned in her seat to direct her attention to the stiffened brunette and the two exchanged hesitant glances before the blonde finally gathered her books and shuffled to the back of the room, dropping down on the stool next to her.

“ _Bonjour_ ,” she had said with a coy smile.

It was the first time they had ever (officially) spoken to each other outside of the context of classroom debate. It wasn’t that Delphine had been cold to her prior; the European hadn’t seemed to notice her much at all, aside from the casual smile she’d slip whenever the two crossed paths in the hallway or their eyes met from across the room. Cosima had nearly choked on her own words, but managed to utter some sort of syllable in greeting. 

Delphine has proven to be an even more adept lab partner than Scott. The brunette never has to worry about waiting for her to catch up with her own observations or double checking the blonde’s lab report before she hands it in. It’s sort of nice in a way, to work with someone who is more than an equal to her intellectual drive. The tradeoff, however, means that she spends an hour every day in close proximity to the one person who rouses kamikaze butterflies from their slumber in her stomach. She’s normally such a talkative girl, but around Delphine, she tries her best to hold her clever tongue for fear of sounding like a bumbling idiot in front the only person whose opinion matters. Despite her best attempts at being conservative, she always finds another way to make a fool of herself. That morning, her and Delphine had both leaned in to take a peak through the microscope at the very same time, bumping foreheads. She’d apologized profusely and the European just giggled, reassuring her. As they both scribbled down their findings on lined paper, her right arm had brushed against Delphine’s left on the table and she’d locked up like she usually did when she came into direct contact with her partner. What made it worse was the fact that Delphine didn’t seem to mind. She certainly noticed, as Cosima took note of the goosebumps raised along the blonde’s arm. She didn’t withdraw her arm, didn’t shoot Cosima a questioning glance. She simply held it there until the bell finally signaled the end of the class and the brunette darted away as quickly as humanly possible.

She’s still a little flustered from her latest display of awkwardness with Delphine and she knows there’s only one thing in this world that will settle her nerves now. As she walks around the back of the building, she smiles when she spots the disheveled punk leaning against the wall, aggressive music blaring from her headphones.

“Hey, Sarah,” she says with a wave, closing the distance between them.

Sarah lifts her head, taking note of her visitor. She pulls her headphones from her ears and tucks them into her pocket.

“Oi.”

This has become a common occurrence between them. Cosima and Sarah are polar opposites, the former being the charmingly geeky overachiever and the latter your typical troubled teen with a knack for stirring up trouble. The only thing the two seem to share is their mischievousness (Cosima’s brand arguably more playful), their quick tongues and this corner in the parking lot where they’ve been meeting since freshmen year.

“Can I have a dime?” the spectacled girl asks, digging a ten dollar bill out of her pocket.

Sarah nods, then shrugs her backpack from her shoulders to dig through it. She retrieves a ziplock bag and trades it for the money, her eyes quickly scanning the area to make sure there are no observers. As soon as the exchange is over, she shoves her hands into the pockets of her tattered leather jacket and tries to look as inconspicuous as possible.

“Vic says this stuff’s a little stronger than the stuff I sold you last week, yeah?” Sarah warns.

“So, don’t smoke it all at once or I can kiss my entire day goodbye,” Cosima says with a nod, slipping the baggie into the safety of her bra,.

“Basically.”

Their school is full of an abundance of burnouts, but Cosima doesn’t consider herself to be one of them. Unlike a lot of her peers, she doesn’t spend her days toking in her basement and frying her brain beyond the point of thought. For her, it’s a joint to relieve some of her anxiety (usually brought upon by her lab partner) or a couple of bong hits when she needs a little inspiration to finish a paper.

“Having more girlfriend troubles?” Sarah inquires with a smirk.

“She’s not my girlfriend and I don’t have a problem,” Cosima protests.

“Oh, come on. Ever since Roberts pawned her off on you, you’ve been coming here twice as often.”

This is true, although the clever girl is unwilling to admit it. She sighs, kicking at a stone on the ground as Sarah snickers. 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“Only if you have eyes.”

Sarah teases her incessantly and she drags her feet the whole way as the two girls walk back around to the front of the school, where the rest of their peers are eating and conversing and enjoying their lunch period. The punk slings an arm around her neck, trying to pull the geek out of her slump.

“Don’t worry about it, yeah? I’m not gonna tell anyone you have the hots for Little Miss Perfect.”

“Gee, you’re too kind,” Cosima mutters sarcastically.

“Speaking of which,” Sarah says. “Incoming.”

Cosima’s head perks up at Sarah’s words and she spots the blonde approaching them from across the field. Her spine straightens and a large lump forms in her throat as she considers her options; she could slip away and pretend like she simply didn’t see Delphine, but when the European waves in her direction, she realizes that’s impossible and manages a half-hearted wave of her own.

“Oh, shit. This is golden,” Sarah says through her bout of laughter.

Cosima shoves her harshly as Delphine finally stops in front of them, all smiles and perfect hair. 

“ _Bonjour_ , Cosima!”

Cosima nods a little too enthusiastically.

“Yeah. Hey. Hi.”

“You left class so quickly today,” Delphine remarks. “Are you feeling well?”

The blonde’s concern makes her heart slam even more furiously against her ribcage and she wonders how one person can be so perfect; not only is Delphine absolutely gorgeous, but her intelligence rivals Cosima and her kindness is always genuine, unlike their other female classmates.

“Me? Oh, yeah. Totally. I’m fine. Awesome.”

“ _Bien_. I’m glad.”

Sarah can barely contain her laughter as she observes them from behind Cosima, slapping a hand over her mouth in an attempt to prevent her cackling. Delphine’s brow furrows as she inspects the punk and Cosima mentally reminds herself that she needs to find a new source of weed. As she opens her mouth to snap at Sarah, she’s distracted by an extremely colourful bus pulling up to the side of the school and into her line of vision. It reminds her of something out of the 60s, with brightly coloured flowers painted along the sides among other things.

“Are the Merry Pranksters in town or something?” she wonders aloud.

Sarah and Delphine both turn to see what she’s referring to.

“Oh. It’s the spirit bus,” Delphine remarks.

“Spirit bus? What the hell’s a spirit bus?” Cosima asks.

“Everyone rides to the game in the spirit bus, and they all cheer and sing. It’s to support the team,” Delphine explains.

“So, it’s a big wank-fest then,” Sarah summarizes.

The punk and the geek both start laughing as the French girl stares at them blankly, her shoulders slumping ever-so-slightly.

“As if a couple of “hip-hip-hoorays” will really make a difference. We’re still gonna get clobbered, just like we do every year. What a lame idea,” Cosima muses.

“How about you, blondie? You gonna be on the spirit bus?” Sarah jokes.

“Well... yes.”

As soon as Delphine’s confession leaves her lips, the spectacled girl immediately stops laughing.

“I’m the one who’s organizing the spirit bus. I... I actually came to see if you wanted to buy a ticket, Cosima, but... nevermind.”

She feels ice freeze in her veins, her mouth go dry and her throat begin to swell shut. She’s spent the better part of the semester trying not to look like a tool in front of Delphine and she’s managed to make herself look like biggest one in the entire school in a matter of seconds. 

“Oh. _Oh shit_. I’m so sorry, Delphine!” she apologizes, flailing her hands about.

“I-It’s fine. I guess it _is_ sort of an overzealous idea...,” the blonde replies, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

“No, it’s not! It’s a pretty amazing idea, actually!’

“Is that right?” Sarah asks, arching a brow at Cosima.

“For sure! I mean, there’s totally not enough school spirit anymore! We could use some more spirit! Go Eagles!” Cosima says, pumping a fist in the air to emphasize her point.

“ _Vraiment_?” Delphine asks, her skepticism matching Sarah’s.

“Yeah! I’ll totally buy a ticket! Shit, if there were ten of me, I’d buy ten! It’ll be fun!”

Delphine’s face immediately lights up and she’s all radiant smiles and golden halos once again. 

“Nice save, geek face,” Sarah whispers in Cosima’s ear.

“That’s wonderful!” Delphine exclaims. “I’m so glad you’ve decided to come. To be honest, I’ve had a lot of trouble selling tickets.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Sarah mumbles once again, earning herself a death glare from Cosima.

“Okay. The bus will be parked in front of the school after the final bell. I’ll save you a seat.”

“O-Okay. Sure thing. I’ll be there.”

Before she can register what is happening, Delphine is leaning forward, pressing a kiss to one of her cheeks, followed by the other in a typical European fashion. The contact leaves her body buzzing and mouth speechless as she stumbles to find something to say, anything at all. Delphine darts away with a smile and a “ciao” before she has a chance to actually find the words.

“Did I just agree to ride to a football game in a ridiculous-looking short bus with a girl I can barely form coherent thoughts around?” she asks.

“Looks like it.”

She groans, slipping her fingers under her lenses and rubbing her eyes.

“Have fun on your date,” Sarah snickers, following Delphine’s lead and wandering off on her own.

“It’s not a date!” 

Her protest falls on deaf ears all around.

 

\+ + + + + + + + 

 

“God, I hate football.” 

Twenty minutes into the game and the brunette feels what she can only assume is brain atrophy begin to settle in. For such a logical person, she’d made a pretty illogical decision in accepting Delphine’s invitation onto the spirit bus. She isn’t sure what she was hoping to achieve in doing so, but her lack of foresight has left her stranded at a football game without a friendly face in sight. 

The bus ride to the game had been almost painfully awkward. As promised, Delphine had saved her a seat on the bus, but the shorter girl was still too flustered in her partner’s presence to hold a meaningful conversation. If she had smoked the weed she’d bought off Sarah during lunch, perhaps she would have felt more at ease, but she hadn’t had any time throughout the course of the day to sneak away and indulge. Delphine had bombarded her with a number of ideas for their upcoming Biology project, all of which Cosima approved with a simple nod or grunt. As soon as the bus arrived at their destination, she’d parted ways with a sweet smile and an “adieu” before venturing off with another group of girls. Cosima didn’t take it personally; Delphine is a member of the student council and so she has a duty at school events that she must uphold, a duty that transcends their awkward relationship. Cosima had taken a seat by herself on the bleachers, away from the main group of spectators, slumped in a lone heap. Most of the other spectators were from the school they were playing against and the few faces she did recognize were faces she tended to avoid like the plague, so she had opted for solitude instead. And yet, after only a few plays, she’d found the game to be unbearable and had quietly slipped away from the activity without a single soul noticing her departure.

As she exits the area and ventures into the parking lot, she retrieves the perfectly formed joint from her bra and places it between her lips. At this point, everyone is watching the game so she isn’t afraid of getting caught. She spots that ridiculous, brightly-coloured bus and figures that it’ll serve as a perfect shield from the possibility of prying eyes, so she meanders over towards it.

“You’re such an idiot,” she mumbles to herself, bringing the lighter to the end of the joint and lighting it.

She’d been so eager to please her lab partner that she’d completely abandoned her dignity in the process. As she turns around the back of the bus, she slams into another body, one that’s significantly taller and sturdier than her own. The impact sends her stumbling backwards and she falls on her ass, groaning.

“Shit. Sorry.”

She shakes the daze out of her head and opens her eyes to register the large, burly man standing over her. She recognizes him as the bus driver and he offers her a hand which she gratefully accepts, allowing him to tug her back onto her feet with a powerful yank.

“No worries,” she replies, brushing herself off.

“Looks like you had the same idea as me, kid.”

She notices the joint dangling from between his lips and smirks.

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t,” she tries.

He shrugs.

“Works for me.”

With that, he begins to wander off and her eyes come to rest on the bus, the door wide open. Last she checked, it was the bus driver’s responsibility to watch the bus and here he was, running off to God knows where to do God knows what.

“Hey! Where are you going?” she shouts.

“I’ll be back when the game’s over,” he hollers over his shoulder. “Be a good girl and make sure nobody jacks our wheels.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but the driver dips around a corner and out of her line of vision and she realizes that she’s stuck.

“Great. Now I have to babysit a friggin’ bus. Wonderful.”

Although, to be honest, she figures it’s better than the alternative as she has no desire to return to the arena and watch jocks pummel each other for another hour or so. Sighing, she leans back against the vehicle and takes a heavy drag, holding it in her lungs. When she finally releases it, she feels better almost instantaneously. She can already feel the THC beginning to take effect, bringing a sheepish smile to her face and calming her nerves. It doesn’t even rattle her when she notices a familiar blonde rear around the back of the bus, stopping dead in her tracks when she notices Cosima.

“O-Oh. Cosima. I didn’t expect anyone to be here,” she stutters.

“Yeah, neither did I. Hence, you know, the joint,” she says with a laugh, gesturing towards the joint in her hand.

Her eyes drop to the unlit cigarette in Delphine’s hand.

“Came to have a smoke?” she inquires.

The European’s face turns a bright shade of red and she reaches into her purse, fumbling with her pack of cigarettes in an attempt to slip the one between her fingers back inside.

“Hey, it’s fine. I don’t care or anything. Do what you gotta do,” Cosima says.

She watches as Delphine’s body slowly relaxes.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

She’s usually so nervous when speaking to the gorgeous blonde, but the weed is having its intended effect, making it far easier for her to socialize and forget her anxiety. She watches Delphine nibble on her bottom lip and bow her head slightly, like a child getting caught in the midst of doing something naughty. She can’t help but find it adorable.

“Why would I tell on you?” she asks.

“I don’t want to get in trouble,” Delphine replies, her doe eyes pleading for secrecy.

Cosima giggles, taking another drag from her joint.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she promises, exhaling a puff of smoke as she speaks. “Besides, you kinda have an ace up your sleeve, anyway.” 

“ _Pardon_?” Delphine asks, bemused. 

“Well, if I ratted you out for smoking a cigarette, you could always rat me out for smoking pot. I’d get in way more trouble than you. I’d probably get suspended,” the brunette explains.

Delphine finally smiles.

“ _C’est vrai._ ”

She places the cigarette between her lips and lights up. Cosima continues to lean back against the bus, watching her intently. Her eyes fixate on her lab partner’s perfect lips, taking note of how they maneuver themselves around the cancerous stick; she smokes the cigarette like it’s an extension of herself, not like a lot of her classmates do, huffing greedily and occasionally coughing. Everything about Delphine, from the way she speaks in class to the way she smokes a cigarette, has a sort of grace to it.

“You wanna sit?” Cosima suggests, motioning towards the bus’s open door.

Delphine arches her neck, attempting to peer inside of it.

“Where is the driver?”

“Said he’d be back when the game was over,” Cosima shrugs.

Delphine finishes her cigarette, flicking the butt to the ground. She stares at the brunette hesitantly, then stares at the open door, wondering how to proceed. The spectacled girl can almost see the gears turning in the blonde’s head as she assesses the situation, trying to determine the level of trouble she’ll find herself in if they’re caught.

“Come on. We can talk more about our project if you want,” Cosima insists.

“Maybe this is not such a good idea. We might get in trouble if we get caught unsupervised,” Delphine replies, chewing on her lower lip again, undoubtedly a nervous habit.

“Oh, come on. Do you really wanna go back there and watch us get the shit-kicking of a life time?” the brunette asks with a lopsided grin.

This time, Delphine cannot contain her own smile.

“It really is quite painful to watch,” she remarks.

“A whole lot of good your spirit bus did, eh?’ Cosima jabs.

She watches the blonde slump.

“Hey, sorry! I was only kidding!” she defends.

Delphine offers her another smile and then saunters by her, stepping onto the bus. Cosima’s initially shocked at the French girl’s sudden defiance, but a pleased smirk returns to her face and she follows faithfully behind. Delphine heads to the very back of the bus, sliding into one of the rows, waiting for Cosima to join her. The brunette eventually does, taking a seat next to her, still taking the occasional drag from her joint.

“You’re a very joking person, aren’t you?” the blonde asks.

Cosima arches a brow, her tongue poking out from behind her teeth as it usually does when she's in a playful mood. She holds out the joint to her lab partner and Delphine takes it from her fingers, holding it up and inspecting it before eventually bringing it to her own lips and taking a drag.

“A “joking” person?” Cosima teases.

Delphine immediately realizes how foolish she sounds and she bursts into laughter, quickly joined by Cosima. After another toke, she hands the joint back to Cosima, who snuffs it out on the back of the seat. 

“I can’t think of the proper English word,” she admits.

“Hm. Well, my dad always calls me cheeky,” Cosima offers.

“ _Oui!_ Cheeky! Cheeky is the perfect word!”

Cosima chuckles again, then lifts her hands high above her head, stretching languidly. She lets out a loud groan as she does so, reveling in the feeling of her muscles stretching. The act causes her shirt to rise slightly, leaving her stomach exposed, something the blonde discreetly takes note of.

“You’re always laughing and smiling. I always see you joking with your friends,” Delphine says, leaning back in her seat.

“You do?”

Delphine’s confession shocks her. She always assumed she was but a blip on the blonde’s radar, hardly important enough to warrant any sort of inspection. She figured that Delphine never took any notice of her at all outside of Biology. When she thinks about Delphine observing her from a safe distance, she smiles coyly.

“How come you never joke with me, Cosima?”

Her voice is a low whisper, almost deadly in its seriousness. Even still, there is a sweetness to her tone and when the brunette meets her gaze, the intensity that flickers in the opposing chestnut orbs sends a jolt up her spine.

“W-What?”

Delphine leans in a little closer.

“You always seem to get so quiet when I speak, but you’re so lively with other people. Do... do I make you uncomfortable?” she asks, her brow furrowing.

Despite the marijuana, she feels the ice return to her veins and she panics.

“What? No! Not at all!”

“Do you... not like me, then?”

The blonde’s bottom lip begins to tremble, her eyes begin to glimmer. The ice becomes liquid nitrogen; she can’t stand to see girls cry, let alone _Delphine_. She looks so defeated, a la Bambi and the hunter. 

She can’t help herself.

Confessions begin to slip.

“No! That’s not the case at all! I like you a lot, actually!”

The French girl’s trembling lip immediately steadies, the threat of tears slowly dissipating. Her expression changes from one of pain and sadness to one of hopeful curiosity.

“You do?” she inquires.

“Yeah! Like, I totally like you!” Cosima exclaims, her hands waving around frantically.

Delphine smiles, reaching for one of the brunette’s hands. She grasps it gently, studying it with her own. She pulls Cosima closer to her and the spectacled girl feels that familiar lump begin to form in her throat again.

“I like you, too, Cosima,” she confesses.

“R-Really?” she asks, stunned.

Delphine shifts closer so that she is pressed up to Cosima’s side, the contact melting the stiffness in her body. She rests her head against Cosima’s shoulder and releases a contented sigh.

“I think that you may be the smartest, sweetest person in this entire school.”

It’s the most genuine compliment she’s ever received and it turns her cheeks a new shade of red.

“I don’t know if that’s true,” she mutters.

“It is.”

Cosima smiles, resting her chin atop Delphine’s head. It’s a closeness they’ve never shared before, but she’s feeling strangely confident with the string of confessions that are slowly unraveling.

“When Mr. Roberts said that we were to be lab partners... I was nervous.”

“What? Why?” she laughs.

“You’re so smart, I always feel like a fool whenever you speak in class.”

“Yeah. Ditto,” Cosima replies with a grin.

“I guess we’ve both been foolish, then.”

Cosima looks down at the blonde, who tilts her head up to meet her gaze. Her eyes drift from Delphine’s down to her lips, then back to her eyes again, fluttering between the two, unable to settle on a destination. She recognizes the haziness in the French girl’s eyes as the same that has settled in her own.

“What would your friends say if they saw us like this?” she whispers.

“Friends?”

She acts as though Cosima is speaking a completely foreign language and her voice is enough to send a fissure right through Cosima’s heart. It had never once dawned on her for a second that Delphine, the prettiest, smartest girl in school could feel just as lonely as she does. She maintains her fixed gaze with the blonde, who slowly lets her eyes drift shut and leans forward, pressing her lips to Cosima’s. Before the brunette has time to properly respond to the kiss, Delphine pulls away again, staring up at her through long lashes and glossy eyes.

“ _C’est bien?_ ” she asks shyly.

Cosima mumbles in incoherent agreement before leaning in once again, meeting Delphine’s waiting lips. It’s a sweet kiss, firm yet tender, and she finds herself sighing into the blonde’s mouth as Delphine’s hand reaches, caressing the side of her face, gently stroking her cheek. This isn’t her first kiss, but all preceding ones have been hurried and sloppy; there was Dan in the ninth grade who damn near shoved his tongue down her throat at her first and last tailgating party, then there was Christine who’d been so inebriated, after a few brief moments of making out she had to break away from the kiss to vomit down the front of her top, abruptly ending the encounter. Delphine’s lips aren’t clumsy, her tongue isn’t presumptuous. She tests the waters with tiny nips, gently sucking on Cosima’s bottom lip, eliciting tiny moans from the depths of the brunette’s chest. When Cosima eventually feels the blonde’s tongue tease and beg for entry, she obliges and loses herself to the sensation.

She feels Delphine begin to shift and quickly realizes that the blonde is attempting to find a more advantageous position, so her hands find Delphine’s hips and help her until her French classmate is straddling her lap.

“Is this better?” Delphine asks.

Cosima nods, then silences her with lips once again. Her hands trace patterns against Delphine’s lower back, deftly slipping beneath the hem of her sweater in her pursuit for skin. She keeps it chaste, resisting the temptation to sink lower to her lab partner’s ass. She allows Delphine to set the pace, because for all her willingness, she can still feel a tinge of uncertainty, most likely brought upon by her inexperience with women.

When they part for air, Cosima’s lips immediately go to the French girl’s throat, showering it with kisses and nips. She can hear the blonde attempt to stifle her whimpers, although she’s not very successful. Instead, her hands dig into the brunette’s hair, holding her head in position, encouraging her adulation.

“You feel so good,” Delphine moans.

“You, too,” Cosima huffs against her throat. “I knew you would.”

Her words draw a smile from the blonde, who reclaims a hand from Cosima’s hair, instead placing it on the quirky girl’s chest to gently nudge her backwards until she’s sitting straight, her back pressed against uncomfortable leather.

“You knew?” she pries, locking eyes with Cosima.

The brunette licks her lips and nods, trying to steady her laboured breathing. Delphine is reaching for the zipper of her sweater, slowly pulling it down until the garment is open. She watches its entire descent through hooded lids.

“Totally.”

Delphine’s smirk becomes wider as she shimmies out of the sweater, discarding it on the floor of the bus. Her white tank top clings to her body, her black lace bra far too apparent underneath, leaving very little to the imagination. She reaches for the hem of the tank top, but before she removes it, she pauses. Cosima finds her gaze once again, waiting for the European to continue. Instead, she leaves the geek dangling.

“How long?”

She finally realizes that the usually meek and modest blonde is far more wicked than she could have imagined. Her hands linger on the hem of her top, teasing, waiting for Cosima’s response, unwilling to reward her until she gets her answer.

“From the second I saw you.”

She reckons her response is the right one because in a flash, the top is pulled over Delphine’s head and thrown somewhere behind her. She groans at the sight of newly exposed skin and her hands leave Delphine’s hips, traveling up her torso, pausing beneath her covered breasts. She can feel a steady throbbing between her legs and she gazes up at the girl straddling her, eyes begging for permission. When she feels Delphine tug her hands away, she wants to whine at the rejection, but the blonde is reaching for the hem of her own shirt before she has time to do so. Cosima leans forward, allowing Delphine to pull the article over her head, leaving both girls topless.

“ _Tu es belle_ ,” Delphine whispers in her ear, her hands beginning their exploration.

Cosima leans back, her eyes slamming shut as she allows the blonde to explore her body. She runs her hands over toned biceps, a jutting collarbone, along her ticklish sides that cause the brunette’s stomach to tense. Delphine is familiarizing herself with the field, learning the rules of the game. She’s a quick study.

When Cosima can take no more of Delphine’s torturous pace, she leans forward, sandwiching Delphine against herself and the back of the seat in front of them. Her hands cup the slender girl’s breasts through the fabric of her bra and she hears the French girl’s breath hitch as she arches into the touch. She’s testing boundaries now, seeing how far the blonde is willing to go, and when Delphine doesn’t stop her, she slowly undoes the magnetic clasp at the front of her bra, watching the garment fall open and supple flesh spill out. As she takes a nipple in her mouth, her eyes find Delphine’s who are staring down at her through dilated pupils, her lips parted.

“Cosima,” she whispers breathlessly.

She closes her eyes and succumbs to the sensation of a warm mouth and skillful tongue enveloping her nipple. Her hands find the back of the brunette’s head and pull her closer into her chest as her hips buck involuntarily. This instinctual reaction is enough to solidify Cosima’s resolve and she reaches for the zipper of the blonde’s pants, pulling it down. As soon as Delphine feels her pants begin to loosen, she looks down at Cosima, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Are you sure?” the brunette asks, halting her movements.

Delphine takes a moment to consider her before nodding. She climbs off of Cosima’s lap so she can slip out of her pants before finding her place once again straddling the brunette’s lap. The geek can feel her entire body begin to tremble with anticipation, her skin flare on contact. Even in her many fantasies of herself and the blonde alone in the Bio lab, Delphine’s body was never quite this perfect, her skin never quite so smooth, her touch never so effective. She tries to maintain her newfound confidence as she feels Delphine reach for her own jeans, helping her shimmy out of them. Never in a thousand years would she ever have thought that she’d be sitting in the back of a short bus in her bra and panties with _Delphine fucking Cormier_ straddling her in nothing but her underwear, dragging her lips across the brunette’s clavicle. She can feel her classmate’s own desire slick against her stomach through the fabric of flimsy cotton and it’s enough to send her eyes reeling back in her head. She reaches for Delphine’s hips again, repositioning the blonde so that she is free to slip a leg between her thighs and they’re both keening at the contact.

“More,” Cosima expels, pushing herself up against the blonde.

Delphine obeys, grinding down against Cosima’s thigh. Their movements are clumsy at first as they both try to feel out a rhythm, but they eventually discover a sense of fluidity as as they thrust in counterpoint to one another. She buries her face in Delphine’s neck, teeth sinking into flesh as the blonde’s hands grip her head tightly, both to steady herself and hold Cosima in position. As their pace quickens, so does the slickness between their legs, branding the tender flesh of each other’s thighs. As she tastes Delphine’s heart slamming hard through her jugular, she can hear her own exploding in her ears and she knows that it’s too much for either of them to stand for much longer. The blonde whimpers and mewls like a kitten, French profanities the only words she can seem to conjure up. Cosima keeps her face buried in the softness of her classmate’s neck and closes her eyes, focusing on the rhythm of their undulating hips, the thunder of their heartbeats, the blaze of her own desire quickly spreading from the juncture between her thighs to her belly, reaching higher and higher with every passing second. Her hands dig into Delphine’s hips, helping to guide her movements, helping to angle her in the exact, precise way to achieve the friction they’re both so desperate for.

“ _Près_...,” Delphine utters through parted lips, her hands dropping to Cosima’s back to sink her nails into olive-toned flesh.

Cosima takes this as encouragement and rewards with a heavy thrust once, twice, three times before she finally feels the blonde’s entire body tense up and begin to convulse. Delphine goes completely silent for an instant before she releases a deep, throaty moan and throws her head back. The sound itself is enough to send Cosima the rest of the way over the edge as the blonde pulls her under into her own abyss of explosions and white-hot flames.

They cling to each other, their skin fused together in a combination of sweat and heat. Delphine cradles the brunette’s head, pressing a kiss to the crown of it and Cosima smiles sheepishly as she allows herself to be held.

“Wow,” is all she is able to muster.

Delphine hums in response as her breathing finally steadies itself. When her legs find their strength again, she slips off of Cosima and finds their discarded clothing on the floor, handing Cosima her pants and top as she dresses herself.

“What. No cuddles?” Cosima teases.

Delphine flashes her a grin from over her shoulder. She stalks over to Cosima, leaning down and responding with a slow, tantalizing kiss that has the brunette’s body nearly quaking all over again.

“The game should be finishing soon,” she explains. 

“Oh. Oh, right. I guess that’s true,” Cosima replies, pulling her own jeans up her legs.

Once they’re both dressed again, they stumble out of the vehicle hand-in-hand, grinning and giggling like foolish children. They can hear an eruption of sound from the football field, most likely indicating the end of the match and they’re timing couldn’t have been better.

“Well, well, well.”

The familiar British accent reaches both sets of ears as they whip around to spot Sarah leaning against the side of the bus, a cocky smirk on her face. She’s accompanied by Alison, another girl from their grade who is donning an expression of pure mortification.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” Cosima asks, alarmed.

The last person she expected to see at a football game was Sarah, let alone in the company of Alison Hendrix.

“I-I-I wanted to come watch the game. Sarah wanted to check on you,” Alison stammers, her eyes wide and face pale.

“Just wanted to see how your date was going. Pretty well, apparently."

The blush is immediate for the blonde, who nervously tucks a piece of hair behind her ear while sinking her teeth into her lower lip. She can’t bring herself to meet Sarah’s gaze.

“We... we were just talking about, uh, science,” Cosima tries.

“Is that right?” Sarah asks again.

“Yep. Science.”

“ _O-Oui_. Science,” Delphine chimes in.

“Well, I’ve never heard science like _that_ before. And in a _school bus_! People sit on those seats, you know!” Alison chides.

Sarah erupts into a fit of laughter.

“Okay, so it was, like, crazy science. Super mega crazy science. You know, the kind that makes a lot of noise?” 

“Is it also the kind that flips your shirt inside out, genius?” Sarah retorts, tugging at the evidence.

She hadn’t noticed until now that her top was, indeed, inside out. She opens her mouth to try yet another excuse but she quickly realizes how futile it is, so she closes it and begins to laugh at the hilarity of the entire situation. She looks over to Delphine who, despite covering her mouth with her hand in an attempt to conceal her smile, is unable to contain her own soft giggling which eventually grows into a more tumultuous uproar that matches Sarah and Cosima’s, leaving Alison the odd girl out, arms folded across her chest.

“Seems like you got more spirit than I thought, yeah?” Sarah asks, swatting Cosima in the arm.

She unleashes a massive grin.

“Go Eagles.”


	2. I Kissed A Girl (And I Liked It)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** Here's the second instalment! I have this image in my head of a teenage Cosima with Manic Panic hair, who's sort of the quirky outcast of her high school. So, this chapter kind of stemmed from that idea. And I wanted to have some fun with drunk Delphine, so here you go.

Despite being only a freshmen, Felix Dawkins is illustrious for throwing some of the best parties their town has ever seen. His Halloween bash had been a drug and alcohol fueled pow wow that led to an entire street being shut down, overrun with intoxicated teenagers in ridiculous costumes. His birthday party had been even more extreme, with multiple arrests and property damage. So, when Alison Hendrix had invited a small handful of people over to her place for movies and charades, what with her parents being out of town for the weekend, the slender young man took perfect advantage of the opportunity, sending out a mass text inviting as many people as possible. Within an hour, the Hendrix residence was crawling with hormonal teenagers sipping from red solo cups, blaring music and flipping furniture upside down.

“She’s gonna shit, you know,” Sarah muses, taking a swig of beer.

She watches as two well-built guys remove all the fine china from a cabinet, then push it over. The plan, she overheard, is to use the cabinet as a canoe and ride down the stairs from the second floor to the first.

“Yeah. We should probably do something,” Cosima replies, watching as they hoist it up the stairs.

“Yeah. Probably.”

Neither girl moves a muscle as they watch the two idiots jump into the cabinet and attempt to ride it down the stairs, flying out of the oak confines and stumbling down, smacking their heads off every step on the way down. They land in a heap at the bottom of the stairs and the two girls smirk. Sarah lifts a foot, nudging one.

“He okay?” Cosima asks, trying to contain her laughter.

“Meh.” 

Bored, the two ladies move on to the kitchen, hoping to locate the hostess. Neither of them has seen Alison in over an hour and they aren’t sure whether they should be worried or thankful.

“Oi! Party boy!” Sarah hollers, shoving Felix from behind.

The action startles him and he stumbles forward, knocking a chair over as he tries to steady himself. He’s all smiles and giggles, presumably the result of his intoxication, and he wraps his arms around his foster sister’s neck, showering the side of her face with sloppy kisses.

“Cut it out, why don’t ya?” she snaps. “We’re looking for Alison. She still alive?”

“She’s passed out in the craft room,” he answers through his laughter.

Sarah is cackling now, too. As the two siblings horse around with one another, Cosima wanders over to the counter, grabbing a bottle of rum and pouring it into her cup, mixing it with a splash of Coke. Her eyes rake over the room, surveying the damage; if Alison isn’t dead now, she’s bound to have a heart attack when she wakes up and sees the state of her house. Thank God they’ll all be gone by the time that happens.

She hears a group of loud, masculine voices cheering from the living room and, intrigued, she decides to follow the noise. She wonders what it is that has a group of teenage boys so riled up, but she figures it must be something pretty stupid.

“Man, she’s completely blitzed,” she hears one guy laugh.

She arches up onto her tiptoes, trying to see over the crowd of guys huddled around something. Unable to see, she eventually shoves her way through to the front of the circle. Laying on the ground is Delphine Cormier, surrounded by a pile of broken wood.

“ _Désolé_ ,” she mumbles. “I-I... I think I fell.”

Everyone in the room explodes in laughter as the inebriated blonde attempts to find her footing and pull herself off the floor. As she rises to her feet, she loses her balance once again and stumbles backwards, this time knocking over a lamp. Everyone is howling and cheering once again.

“Assholes,” Cosima mumbles under her breath, stalking over to Delphine.

She reaches down, offering the girl a hand.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

Delphine looks up at her with large, doe eyes that are glossed over from drinking too much. She smiles meekly, accepting Cosima’s hand and allowing the spectacled girl to pull her back onto her wobbly legs.

“ _Merci_ ,” she slurs. “You are... _tres gentil_.”

“Do you need any help?”

Before Delphine can answer, she stumbles forward yet again, nearly pulling Cosima down with her. Cosima manages to steady her before either of them topple over and she glares at the group of guys who are still watching, laughing at the blonde’s misfortune.

“I’m... _tres bien_.”

It’s Cosima’s turn to laugh.

“I don’t think you’re _tres bien_ at all.”

She walks Delphine into the hallway where things are a little quieter and helps her sit on the floor, her back pressed to the wall. She smiles down at her classmate sympathetically.

“I’ll go get you some water. Just wait here.”

Delphine nods, her head lulling forward and backward in an exaggerated manner before she rests it between her knees, trying to keep her world from spinning. Cosima quickly pushes through flocks of people on her way to the kitchen. She dumps the contents of her plastic cup into the sink and rinses it before filling it with water.

“Everything alright in there?” Sarah hollers at her.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine. The new girl’s just super drunk,” she explains.

“The exchange student?”

“Yeah. She’s French,” Cosima replies.

“That hot little blonde one?” Felix chimes in.

“Yep,” Cosima replies, turning the faucet off once the cup is full of water. “I think her name’s Delphine something.”

Felix begins making kissing noises while Sarah snickers, causing the quirky young girl to roll her eyes and exit the kitchen. Everyone at school is aware of her sexuality, with Sarah and Felix teasing her and the rest of the student population often insulting or ostracizing her because of it. She’s not as effected by it as most other teens would be; she finds the topic of her sexuality has been far too played out. 

When she returns to the spot where she left Delphine, the blonde is no longer there. She panics for a moment and whips her head around, trying to locate the drunk girl.

“Hey!” she shouts over the music and the noise. “Has anyone seen the new girl?”

A few people look over to her, confused, but no one acknowledges her question. Sighing angrily, she decides that it’s up to her to find her classmate and she begins to search the entire house, from the living room to the dining room to the kitchen. After scanning the entire first floor, she steps over the two idiots at the bottom of the stairs, hopping over the broken cabinet and making her way up them.

“Where the hell did you go?” she mumbles.

The girl is far too drunk to be wandering off on her own, she must have had help. The bathroom door is closed and she turns to the massive line beginning to form.

“You guys see a drunk blonde girl go in?” she asks.

“Nah, man. Just Michelle. She’s hammered, dude. Probably passed out driving the porcelain bus,” a red-headed boy tells her.

She nods and thanks him, continuing with her search. She sees that Alison’s door is closed, as well, but the light inside her room is on. Confused, she heads over to the door and grips the knob, pushing it open.

“Jesus, man. Give us some privacy,” a boy calls out.

“Shit. Sor--”

She’s about to turn around and slam the door behind her when a familiar mess of curls catches her eyes. She steps into the room even further and discovers that her runaway exchange student is pressed beneath the irritated boy, her shirt halfway open.

“Oh. _Bonjour_!” she slurs, attempting to wave at Cosima from beneath the weight of the muscular young man.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Cosima snaps.

“Just close the door and scram,” he barks at her again.

She’s furious now, flying over to the bed and pushing him off Delphine. He’s a lot heavier than she anticipates and she only manages to nudge him slightly. He bats her away with the swing of an arm, pushing her into Alison’s dresser.

“She’s wasted, you creep!” she shouts. “Get the hell off her!”

“Mind your own business, you dyke,” he throws back.

She’s used to the insults, they don’t really bother her, but the sight of a helpless Delphine beneath him is enough to send her blood boiling. She grabs Alison’s piggy bank off the top of her dresser and charges at him, smashing it over his head. Her yelps in pain, rolling off Delphine and clutching his head.

“Crazy bitch!” he shouts.

Cosima ignores him, slinging one of Delphine’s arms over her neck and pulling her into a sitting position.

“So much noise,” she sighs, burying her face in Cosima’s neck.

Cosima helps her to her feet and is walking her out of the room, past the group of people who have gathered outside the door. They’re all staring, concerned, but they make way for Cosima and the unsteady blonde.

“What the hell’s going on?” Sarah asks from the bottom of the stairs.

“Will you help me with her?” Cosima calls down.

Sarah nods, dodging bodies and planks of wood on her quest to reach Cosima. She slings Delphine’s other arm over her neck and the two slowly help her down the stairs.

“She’s shit-faced, Sarah,” Cosima tells her.

“You don’t say?”

“I think I’m gonna take her home.”

They reach the bottom of the stairs and the spectacled girl gently interrogates the blonde, attempting to find out where she lives. After a few minutes of questioning, she isn’t able to get any useful information out of her, only a string of French words she’s unable to translate and a fit of drunken hiccups and giggles.

“What are you gonna do?” Sarah asks.

“I guess I’ll just take her to my place and let her sleep it off. My mom’s out of town and my dad sleeps like a rock, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

She whips out her cellphone and calls them a cab while the blonde hangs off of her, all long limbs and breathy sighs. She presses her lips against Cosima’s ear, sending a tremor through the smaller girl’s body.

“You smell good,” she mumbles.

Cosima squirms, trying to ignore the electricity racing under her skin. Delphine is tall and blonde and French and _absolutely gorgeous_ , but she’s also incredibly drunk, so Cosima tries to push her hazy thoughts aside. 

“Come on. You’re drunk,” Cosima says with a nervous laugh, trying to play off her inner turmoil.

“ _Oui_. But you are...,” she begins, nuzzling her face into the side of Cosima’s. “Sooo soft.”

She tells herself that it’s the liquor talking, that if Delphine was sober, she would never be whispering these words in her ear. She tells herself these things, but as Delphine pulls herself a little closer and she feels the willowy blonde meld into her side, her eyes dip to the girl’s chest, the first few buttons of her shirt still undone from her encounter with the creep in Alison’s bedroom. She takes note of her classmate’s strappy bra and marble skin and feels her throat begin to swell. She should avert her eyes; she isn’t one of the obnoxious teenage boys who was hollering at the blonde earlier, she isn’t a perverted creep like the young man who will be sporting a goose egg on his head tomorrow. It shouldn’t be so hard for her to respect the young woman who is clinging to her body for stability, but as she licks her lips and prays for the cab to show up and rescue her, she can’t take her eyes or her thoughts away from the expanse of skin.

“Cab’s here,” Sarah tells her, smirking as she watches the blonde drape herself over the smaller girl.

It takes her far too long to get the French girl down the steps and to the car, but once she does, Delphine is fairly cooperative. She leans her head against the coolness of the window and closes her eyes as Cosima slips in next to her and dictates her address to the driver.

“You still with me?” she asks.

Delphine barely manages a lazy nod.

“ _Oui_. I think I need... _lit_.”

“ _Lit_?” Cosima asks. “Oh! Bed, right?”

Delphine nods again.

“Okay. Well, you can crash in my bed tonight. We’re almost there.”

It’s only a ten minute drive to her house from Alison’s and she’s thankful for the short distance because the blonde begins to dry heave, the threat of vomit becoming far too real. She prays Delphine can hold on long enough, because she doesn’t want to have to try and carry the blonde the rest of the way. It’s different with Sarah, who has puked in a cab on more than one occasion; Sarah is the same size, Sarah is easy to lift, but Delphine nearly dwarfs her and she doesn’t know how she’ll be able to carry the lanky exchange student. Thankfully, they manage to pull in front of Cosima’s house before the girl can sully the cab and Cosima shoves a few bills into the drivers hand before helping Delphine out. 

“You okay?” she asks once again.

Delphine nods as Cosima walks her across the lawn, but before they reach the porch, she lurches forward and empties the contents of her stomach. Cosima sighs deeply, rubbing the blonde’s back in a soothing manner as she waits for her to finish. Once she’s done, she leads her the rest of the way, up the porch and to the front door. She digs her keys out of her pocket and unlocks the door, pausing to listen for any signs of life. She can hear the television on in the living room and she initially panics, thinking her dad is awake and she’s seconds away from being busted. However, when the sound of loud snoring finally reaches her ears, she exhales a sigh of relief.

“Okay. This way. Try to be quiet.”

She leads the giggling blonde up the stairs, Delphine only tripping a couple of times. Every time, Cosima manages to grab hold of her before she can slide down and hurt herself. It takes far too much time and effort, but she eventually gets her classmate into her bedroom and closes the door soundly behind them. As soon as they’re safe behind the door, she turns and watches Delphine who is clumsily trying to pull her top off.

“What are you doing?” Cosima asks.

The other girl doesn’t answer, finally succeeding in removing her top completely. Cosima immediately feels a blush rise to her cheeks and she averts her gaze, resisting the temptation to peak. She’s staring squarely at the floor, trying to give Delphine some privacy, but the sound of a slam jolts her attention back to her new friend. While trying to peel her jeans off, the blonde had lost her footing and was now in a heap on the floor.

“H-Here. Let me help,” Cosima suggests.

Delphine grabs onto the edge of the bed for support, pulling herself up. She flops onto the mattress as Cosima grabs the bottoms of her jeans, swallowing hard as she gives them a fluid tug, removing them and leaving the French student in her undergarments.

“I have some clothes you can sleep in,” she says, her eyes still lingering on the blonde’s toned stomach.

Delphine shakes her head, mumbling something in French before slipping under the covers. Cosima sighs yet again, deciding to finally give up. It was too exhausting trying to goad her and take care of her, so she let Delphine finally drift off into a drunken slumber.

“You know,” she says, removing her own clothes and reaching for her pajamas. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a half-naked drunk girl in my bed. At least I got some for all of my trouble last time.”

The joke is more for her own ears, as the sleeping blonde is unable to register her words, but she smiles anyway and slides into bed next to Delphine. She’s careful not to touch the blonde, to give her as much space and privacy, given the situation. She remains curled in an almost fetal position on the very opposite edge of the bed, that is until she feels an arm slide around her waist and draw her in.

“Hey. Hey, come on. Don’t do that,” she says, her nervous laughter returning.

Delphine is out of it, mumbling nonsensical words as her grip on the shorter girl tightens. Finally, Cosima feels her back flush against Delphine’s front, the little spoon to the blonde’s big one. 

“So, you’re a cuddler?” she asks.

“Soft,” Delphine sighs, her head nestled in Cosima’s neck. “Warm.”

She knows she should try to Houdini her way out of Delphine’s grasp, that the blonde is still too drunk and unconscious to know what she’s really doing. Besides, Delphine is right; it is soft and warm and far too inviting.

“I guess a little cuddling never killed anyone, huh?” she asks.

But Delphine is fast asleep again. She smiles, allowing herself to follow the rise and fall of Delphine’s chest, letting the sound of her breathing and steady heart beat lull her into her own slumber.

 

\+ + + + + + + + + +

 

She awakens to a jackhammer sounding off inside her skull, eliciting a groan from her mouth. Finally opening her eyes, she sits up in the bed and blinks at the light shining through the window and painfully waits for her eyes to adjust. As soon as they do, they scan across the room, searching for some semblance of familiarity and finding none. Her mouth is bone dry and her lips are chapped, her stomach is moaning and her body aches.

“I bet you’re feeling a bit like a train wreck right about now, huh?”

The voice startles her, causing her to jerk. She whips her head around to acknowledge the speaker and finds a grinning girl, one hand holding a glass of water and the other a bottle of aspirin.

“For you,” she says, holding them out. “I thought you might need them.”

“ _Oui. Merci_ ,” she utters, accepting them.

She ignores the fact that she is in an unknown bed in an unknown room with an unknown girl, instead unscrewing the cap off the bottle and placing a couple of pills on her tongue, followed by a large gulp of water. She’s desperate to make the screeching and spinning in her head stop.

“You usually get plastered and destroy furniture?” the girl asks with a tiny giggle, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“ _Non_. I don’t normally drink so much,” she answers, setting the now empty glass and bottle of pills on the nightstand. “Only wine with dinner.”

Since crossing the Atlantic, she’s found herself in a number of unfamiliar situations. Back in France, she was never one to attend parties, instead opting to stay home and study or read a good book. Then again, back in France, she had loads of friends and family and things to keep her occupied. 

“I... I wanted to make friends,” she says, attempting to justify her folly. “I thought the party would be a good idea. It’s been difficult.”

“Yeah, I know that feeling.”

The corners of her lips upturn in a smile. She doesn’t know why she’s divulging all of this information to a complete stranger, but she feels as if she can trust the curious young woman who’s been sympathetic enough to assist in treating her hangover.

“Where am I?” she finally asks.

“The Ritz Carlton.”

She flashes the other girl a look of bemusement, trying to discern the meaning in her unfamiliar words.

“I-It’s a joke. You’re at my place. I wanted to take you home last night, but you couldn’t exactly remember where you lived, so I just brought you here instead.”

She nods in understanding. Now that her severe case of cotton mouth is gone and the incessant beating in her head is a little less explosive, she finds herself actually able to focus on her savior; she’s a girl of roughly the same age, with a mess of hair dyed purple and nose ring, a pair of cat-eyed glasses, and a smile more luminescent than any she’s ever seen before.

“You...”

She realizes she’s seen the girl before. She can hardly remember any details from the preceding night, but she recognizes the hair and the nose ring and especially that smile. She’s seen her in the halls of their high school, although they’ve never spoken a word to each other.

“It’s Cosima,” she says. “Don’t think I ever actually introduced myself.”

As soon as she hears the girl’s name, she feels a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’s heard that name whispered around the halls, spoken from many different pairs of lips. Some say she’s a genius and a know-it-all, others say she’s a total geek, and then there are some-- mostly the boys-- who speak of other things.

**“She’s kind of a freak, but those girls always turn out to be the wild ones in bed.”**

**“Totally, man. Brain or not, she’s pretty hot.”**

**“It’s too bad she plays for the other team.”**

**“It’s a fucking sin.”**

“I know who you are,” she says hesitantly.

“Oh. Well, guess that makes two of us.”

“ _Pardon?_ ”

“You’re the French exchange student. Your name’s Delphine, right?”

“ _Oui_.”

“Well, Delphine,” she grins, extending a hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Officially.”

Delphine stares at her hand, considering, before finally reaching to accept it. Cosima’s hand is soft, but her grip is steady and unwavering. She can vaguely remember those hands gripping her tightly, steadying her, as she stumbled around like a fool. The night is still very much a haze to her, but that much she remembers.

“How much did I drink?” she groans.

“Well, I didn’t actually witness your downfall until the very end, but I’m assuming it was quite a lot.”

Delphine nods, closing her eyes as she tries to piece together more details. She remembers arriving at Alison’s house already fairly drunk; she was drinking with the girl who was hosting her and some of her friends before they headed out. She remembers a boy handing her a red cup as soon as she walked in the door, then making multiple rounds to refill it as people buzzed around her. She had a tendency to get nervous in large groups of unfamiliar people, hence the excess of drinking. She looks down at herself, realizing that she’s in nothing but her bra and underwear. She feels her heart sink into her kneecaps and she pulls the bedsheets up to cover her chest.

“Umm... last night... did I... did we...?”

Cosima cocks her head, then realizes what the blonde is implying. She immediately begins to feel her own panic settle in.

“Huh? Oh! No, no, no, no! Nothing happened, I swear!” she answers, flailing her hands about. “You stripped most of your clothes off when you crawled into my bed.”

If she didn’t feel like such a fool, she would have laughed watching her new purple-haired friend stumble over her words. There was something very endearing about her enthusiasm and sincerity. She had not seen it in many people since she had come to North America.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes.

“It’s okay. Nothing to be sorry for,” Cosima shrugs.

“I must have ruined your night, forcing you to take care of me.”

“Nah. It was a pretty lame party anyway. I probably would have just left on my own, can’t really stand most of the people there. At least now I can say I made a new friend, huh?”

“ _Oui_. Me, too.”

They exchange smiles and one of Cosima’s talking hands comes to rest down on the bed, accidentally settling on top of Delphine’s. Both girls hesitate, Cosima searching the blonde’s expression for her response. She’s staring down at Cosima’s hand on top of hers, lingering for a moment before pulling hers away.

“People... people talk about you, Cosima,” she says.

“I bet they do,” the eccentric girl mumbles, standing up and walking over to her closet.

Delphine takes note of her shift in demeanor as the shorter girl flips through some of her outfits, undoubtedly to distract herself. The blonde immediately feels guilty, but she can’t help herself. Rumors spread so quickly and she’s fascinated by the girl in front of her. She has to know if there’s any sort of truth to the words.

“They say you’re... um... _digue_?” she explains, trying to recall the strange word.

“Huh?”

Cosima turns to face her, blinking at her a couple of times, trying to translate. She rakes her mind for possible solutions when, suddenly, the answer clicks.

“Ohhhh. You mean a lady lover?”

Delphine nods.

Cosima laughs.

“So... is it true?”

“Is what true?” Cosima asks, abandoning her clothes and approaching the bed.

“That you’re a “lady lover,” as you say.”

“Oh. Well, yeah.”

There’s a thin layer of silence that descends upon both girls. Cosima is cautious, waiting for the blonde’s response. Delphine considers Cosima’s answer. She’s never known any gay people personally; there were a couple of gay boys in her grade back home, but they were no more than her acquaintances. It is something she’s never considered before.

“What’s it like?” she finally asks.

Perhaps it’s an inappropriate question, but her scientific curiosity gets the better of her.

“Being gay?” Cosima asks, thrown off guard by the question.

“ _Oui_.”

She stops for a second, then offers the French girl a smile.

“What’s it like being straight?”

Delphine’s brow furrows. She had never really asked herself that question before. Heterosexuality was the assumed norm and people never bothered to question normal things. She wonders why that is.

“Oh. Um, it’s fine, I guess,” she replies, unsure of how to really answer.

“There’s your answer.”

The witty girl elicits a smile. This is the first conversation she’s ever had with Cosima (that she can remember), and already she finds her far more interesting than any of the other boys or girls at that ridiculous party. She sits up a little straighter in Cosima’s bed, forgetting about covering herself from the shorter girl’s gaze. It doesn’t seem so important now.

“It’s not like I have all that much experience,” Cosima says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed once again. “I’ve only been with a couple of girls, you know.”

“Oh?”

Her answer catches Delphine off guard. Cosima carries herself with such confidence, she assumed the shorter girl would have been with many women. God knows the boys at school liked to talk, always gossiping about all the girls she hung around; there was the British girl with a bad attitude, the girl whose house was destroyed at the party, and the quiet blonde one who always had such an intense look in her eyes, just to name a few.

“Well, yeah. As you may have noticed, our school is in short supply of lesbians and most girls who are even remotely queer are too afraid to admit it. It’s bad for the reputation, or so I’ve been told.”

“I see.”

She slides out of Cosima’s bed, collecting her discarded clothing off the floor. Cosima is kind enough to look the other way as she dresses herself and she smiles, pulling her pants back on and buttoning up her now-wrinkled top.

“Thank you for taking care of me last night,” she says softly, finishing with the last button.

“No sweat. I was just doing the right thing,” Cosima replies with a half-grin.

“Perhaps. But I think not so many people would have done the same,” the blonde muses.

“Yeah, well most people are complete assholes. Especially at our school.”

Delphine hums in response as Cosima finally turns around to face her now fully-dressed classmate, although she maintains the distance between them, leaning against her desk and watching as Delphine checks her disheveled appearance in the mirror.

“You look fine. Don’t worry,” she offers.

“I guess “fine” must mean something very different in English than it does in French.”

The shorter girl merely smiles and continues to watch her guest intently.

“Are teenage boys as big of douchebags back in France?”

“ _Oui_.”

“Really?”

“Teenage boys are teenage boys. They’re the same everywhere, I think.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true.”

They both giggle. The blonde can’t remember the last time she’s had such an easy conversation with someone and she certainly didn’t expect to find such company in someone like Cosima, who was seemingly the complete opposite of her. She abandons the mirror and sits on the edge of the bed, pulling her boots back on.

“Although, there are not many girls like you in France,” she admits.

“What? Lesbians?” Cosima asks, slowing stepping closer until she is standing in front of the preoccupied blonde.

“No. Not lesbians,” Delphine says with a small laugh. “I mean... the nose ring, the crazy hair. It isn’t very common back home.”

“Really?”

It wasn’t entirely common here, either, but every school has their group of rebels with multi-coloured hair and piercings. Cosima wouldn’t exactly classify herself as a rebel, that was more Sarah and Felix’s style, but she definitely didn’t fit in with the mainstream crowd at their high school. Academically, she was at the top of her class, which one might assume would slot her into the nerd tier, although her personality didn’t quite reflect that. She mostly floated in a category that was entirely of her own, shifting back and forth between different groups of friends.

“I think that... someone like you is uncommon anywhere.”

She can’t say that she’s ever met someone like Cosima, who carries herself with such easiness and certainty, who thinks in such a unique way, who is capable of speaking a mile a minute and erasing tension with a single smile.

“Are you calling me a freak?” she asks with a smirk.

“No, no! Not at all! I meant...,” the blonde stumbles over her words.

She shoots up, standing directly in front of Cosima who is staring up at her with a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. As Delphine opens her mouth to attempt to justify the meaning of her words, the words remain trapped in her throat under Cosima’s gaze. She quickly closes her mouth again, then sighs.

“ _Merde_ , I’m sorry.”

Cosima laughs, reaching forward to place a hand on Delphine’s bicep. 

“Hey, I’m just messing with you,” she says softly.

Like before, when Cosima had settled her hand atop Delphine’s, both of them pause and stare at the place where their bodies connect, as if a strange flow of energy is suddenly being transmitted through their skin. Goosebumps rise on the exchange student’s flesh she shivers ever-so-slightly as Cosima watches closely, mystified.

“I should probably go,” Delphine whispers.

Cosima nods, withdrawing her hand and taking a couple of steps away, giving the European some space.

“Yeah. Right. It’s, like, 2:00pm. Someone must be wondering where you are, huh?”

Delphine smiles, running a hand through her wild mess of hair. She chews on her bottom lip, staring at her feet, wondering how to proceed. Despite being fully dressed now, she feels almost naked under Cosima’s eyes.

“It was... nice to meet you Cosima,” she finally manages. “I’ll see you at school?”

“Totally,” the purple-haired girl replies, nodding eagerly with a megawatt grin.

She finally meets Cosima’s gaze again and what she does next surprises the both of them. She doesn’t know what compels her to do it, but with her easy words and flashy smile, something about the shorter girl pulls her forward. Her feet stop shifting nervously in place as they take a couple of steps forward to close the distance between the two. Cosima is looking up at her with wide eyes from behind her frames and Delphine absently licks her lips before leaning forward, pressing her lips to Cosima’s. 

It’s a chaste kiss, a simple brushing of the lips more full of curiosity than passion, but they both linger for what feels like a long while. Cosima’s eyes instinctively close as she kisses back, but her surprise has not subsided even as Delphine sighs into her lips. She feels the blonde’s hand rise to gingerly brush the backs of her fingers against her cheek and she groans softly at the sensation. The sound must reach Delphine’s ears, as well, because she immediately withdraws, as if she finally realizes what she is doing.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, her face blushing red.

“N-No worries. It’s fine. Totally fine. More than fine. Like, super fucking fine,” she mumbles, still dazed from the lip lock.

Delphine giggles.

“I just wanted to do that,” she explains.

“Hey, do what you want, that’s what I always say.”

Delphine nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, once again.

“I really should go, though. I have a paper to finish for Monday.”

Cosima swallows her slew of words, nodding.

“Okay.”

With a final goodbye, Delphine exits the bedroom with a coy smile. Cosima waits until the door is securely closed behind the blonde before she flops backwards onto the bed and releases a long sigh. It was definitely not how she had expected things to go when Alison had invited her over to watch Pretty Woman, or when she was helping the drunk exchange student into the cab and damn-near dragging her up her stairs.

Definitely not what she expected.

For the first time in her life, she feels herself actually excited for Monday.


	3. This Heart of Mine (Beats Right Through My Chest)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** I've been stuck at home with this stupid cold, so to pass the time, I decided to re-watch the entire Alien series... which, of course, inspired me to write this next piece. Just some good old smutty fun. Enjoy :)

The sound of a high-pitched, ear-splitting shriek drowns out the rumbling of the home theatre system for a brief moment as the mortified blonde shoves her face into the shorter girl’s neck, clutching herself to her body like a newborn kitten to its mother, attempting to shut out the source of her trauma. The brunette does her best to stifle her laughter, but as the blonde’s grip grows even tighter and tiny, smothered mewls escape her lips, she finally caves and allows her chest to erupt with boisterous chuckles.

“What’s wrong?” she asks through her thick bout of laughter, already knowing the answer.

Delphine buries her head a little deeper into the crook of her neck, trying to suppress her whimpers. When Cosima’s laughter builds up again, the blonde exhales almost angrily and finally lifts her head from its fleshy refuge, careful to keep her eyes fixated on the grinning girl’s face rather than the large screen.

“Do you honestly have to ask me that question?” she asks harshly.

Cosima bites down on her lower lip, trying again to stifle her laughter as she takes in the other girl’s appearance; her eyes are wide with horror, cheeks flushed and lips parted in surprise. When Delphine notices that Cosima’s chest is still spasming from her bubbling laughter, her brow furrows and lips pout.

“That... that _thing_ just burst out of his chest, Cosima!” she exclaims, throwing her arms up to indicate her shock and disgust.

“I know, right? It’s pretty rad, huh?”

She digs her nails into the flesh of the brunette’s forearm and Cosima’s laughter is immediately replaced by wincing and monosyllabic utterances of protest as she tries to reclaim her arm from the French girl’s talons. 

“Not “rad.” _C’est horrible.”_

Cosima is finally able to free herself and she absently rubs her arm as the white crescent moon-shaped marks begin to sting and burn. Despite the pain, a grin spreads across her face, tongue poking out from behind her teeth like a secret too big to conceal.

“Oh, come on! “ she says in jest, nudging Delphine’s shoulder with her head. “Alien is a classic! I can’t believe you’ve never seen it before. It’s, like, a sci-fi must see. And Sigourney Weaver? Totally Michelin rated.”

The blonde shakes her head rapidly to display her discontent, then settles back into the brunette’s body, resting her face against Cosima’s chest while the latter wraps her arms around her companion’s slender frame.

“Can we please just... do something else?” Delphine pleads.

“Seriously? We’re just getting to the good part!” Cosima retorts, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

“Please?”

Delphine is looking up at her with her characteristic puppy dog eyes, wide and pleading, and as much as the brunette loves aliens and suspense and Sigourney Weaver, she expels a long sigh, knowing there’s no way she can possibly say no.

“Are you really that scared?”

“If I had known your idea of “the house to ourselves” meant watching a horrifying creature burst out of a man’s chest cavity, I would have reconsidered your offer,” the French girl remarks.

She had been lured over to her girlfriend’s house with the promise of a parent-free night and a “killer surprise.” Little did she know that the surprise the quirky young woman was planning included screening a series of her favourite films, starting with Alien, which Delphine had never seen. She didn’t really have any interest in watching films, but Cosima seemed to light up at the prospect of sharing a piece of herself and it was hard to talk the brunette out of something once her mind was set. So, she quietly endured, snuggled up to Cosima’s body as she watched a crew slowly unravel the mystery of some sort of alien species until things took a gruesome turn for the worst.

“Fine,” Cosima finally relents, grabbing the remote and flicking the television off.

Delphine immediately perks up, smiling as she presses a kiss to the corner of Cosima’s lips in an attempt to cheer up her moping girlfriend.

“Wanna play a game instead?” Cosima offers. “I could slaughter you in Mario Kart while we wait for the pizza.”

Delphine slumps again, her pout returning.

“You’re such a poor sport,” Cosima chuckles, slowly maneuvering herself out from under Delphine’s body and off the couch, over to the chest next to the television.

She shuffles through the pile of chaos; game consoles with controllers and wires all tangled together, DVD and video game cases, action figures and Magic cards, until she finally finds the two controllers she’s looking for. 

“Games are supposed to be fun. I fail to see the fun in constantly losing to you,” Delphine sulks, sitting up straight and crossing her legs, folding her arms across her chest to complete her image of the unimpressed girlfriend.

“All the more reason why you should practice,” Cosima winks, tossing a controller at the blonde.

She barely catches it, fumbling with the plastic as Cosima plops down on the couch next to her. She presses her glasses up the bridge of her nose, waiting for the screen to load the game. Delphine can’t help but take note of the brunette’s focused demeanor. As the character select screen finally surfaces, Cosima wastes no time in selecting her character; Toad, because he reminds her of that time she did mushrooms in the park with Sarah and Felix, as she had previously disclosed. She waits patiently for Delphine to choose, but the cursor remains steady and blinking.

“What’s wrong?” Cosima asks, turning to her.

“Cosima...,” she begins, chewing on her lower lip.

“You should choose Peach. She’s blonde and she’s a princess. Totally like you,” Cosima suggests.

Delphine stares at the screen for another minute, still undecided. She glances over to Cosima, who is busy customizing her vehicle, then glances down at her own controller. She smirks, setting the controller down on the empty space of the couch to her left. She then reaches for Cosima’s controller.

“Hey!” Cosima protests.

Delphine gently tugs the controller from her hand, tossing it aside.

“Why don’t we just...”

She grabs one of Cosima’s now unoccupied hands, sliding it beneath her shirt. She guides it up, up, until it finally settles over her breast.

“Oh,” Cosima exhales in a shaky breath, immediately forgetting about the game.

Delphine moves to straddle Cosima’s lap as the brunette grips the supple flesh a little tighter, stroking and kneading through the fabric of her bra. She leans down, bringing her lips to Cosima’s, brushing their noses together tenderly before she finally closes the distance between their mouths in a slow, tantalizing kiss.

“Okay. I fully support this decision,” she mutters against Delphine’s lips when they finally part for air.

“Hm. I thought you would,” Delphine nods in agreement.

Cosima slips her free hand into the blonde’s curls, gripping them tightly as she pulls her back down for another kiss. Delphine squirms in her lap, hips undulating as she traps Cosima’s thigh between her own, her body shuddering at the much desired friction. Cosima, sensing the blonde’s growing desperation, lowers her down onto the couch until the blonde finds herself on her back with the spectacled girl hovering over her. 

Cosima withdraws her hand from beneath the blonde’s blouse, busying it with the buttons instead. As soon as she has Delphine’s shirt open, she trails a series of kisses from her navel up until she reaches the French girl’s sensitive neck, adorning it with tiny bites and kisses in just the way she knows drives the taller girl wild. Delphine moans as Cosima pulls at flesh with her teeth, marking her.

“Feel free to veto any future decision I might make with sex,” Cosima mumbles hot against her skin, her fingers reaching for the bare skin of Delphine’s thigh.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Delphine breathes, pulling Cosima’s mouth to hers once again.

Her tongue traces the brunette’s lower lip, teasing, stealing a long groan which she swallows eagerly. Cosima skims her hand up the length of the French girl’s leg, slipping it beneath the hem of her skirt and never slowing. When she reaches the juncture between the blonde’s legs, she emits a low, husky moan.

“Jesus, Delphine,” she says, peeling her lips from the other girl’s. “Are you trying to kill me?”

The blonde is wet.

Too wet.

She’s dripping, coating the brunette’s nimble fingers; her lack of underwear is at fault.

“When you said you had a surprise for me on the phone,” Delphine whispers seductively against her lips. “I thought I’d give you a surprise of my own.”

She runs her fingers through the blonde’s folds, her eyes darkening with desire as she watches Delphine’s lips part and eyes flutter at the sensation. Her nails bite into Cosima’s shoulder blades and she captures her lover’s smoldering gaze, holding it as Cosima slowly teases at her opening.

“Your surprise is _so_ much better than mine,” she admits.

“Better than--”

Her breath hitches as Cosima slides a couple of fingers inside to the first knuckle, a ghost of what’s to come.

“Better than Sigourney Weaver?” she finishes, nearly choking on her words.

Cosima smirks, withdrawing her digits for a moment only to insert them again more forcefully. Delphine expels a loud moan, her back arching almost painfully as she feels Cosima fill her to the hilt, her muscles clenching around the experimental fingers.

“Better than Sigourney,” Cosima confirms, settling into an easy rhythm, watching the blonde contort and unravel. “Better than...”

She curls her fingers.

“Carrie Fisher in Return of the Jedi...”

Delphine’s nails dig even deeper into Cosima’s shoulder blades with the promise of scars as she bucks against her dancing fingers, biting down harshly on her lower lip to suppress her whimpers. As she watches the French girl’s attempted restraint, she thinks this won’t do, and so she reaches for one of Delphine’s knees with her free hand, spreading her legs even wider. The blonde’s eyes roll back and they both feel her restraint melt away with the new angle.

“Better than Eskimo pies on a hot summer day...”

_“Co-si-ma,”_ she moans.

It’s both a plead and a warning.

“I need this” and “don’t you dare deny me.”

She shifts again, hoisting the taller girl’s legs up over her shoulders and pressing against the back of her fervent hand with her thigh. The added pressure sends another spark up Delphine’s spine and she releases another high-pitched shriek that tears through her chest like the creature in the film. Cosima expels a moan of her own; there’s something about seeing the blonde so open and uninhibited that lights an inferno deep within her.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmurs into Delphine’s ear.

She knows it’s cheesy and overly sentimental, but it’s the only thing she can think to say. She remembers thinking it the very second she first lay eyes upon the blonde, from across the aisle of their AP Chemistry class. She never once thought she’d ever have the French student half-naked and writhing beneath her on her couch, but by some act of God, she’d managed to woo and win her over.

Delphine feels her body begin to swell with Cosima and she isn’t sure where the spasming starts, but before long, every muscle in her body is contracting, pushing and pulling and leading her towards some sort of axis that her mind can’t stop spinning around. As release tears through her, her mouth falls open as if to emit a slew of guttural noises, but nothing comes; she is silent and shuddering, wide-eyed and dewy, and as Cosima curls her fingers one last time, noise finds her again in the form of a muffled squeak as she buries her face into Cosima’s neck.

When she’s finished, she pulls Cosima down so that her entire body weight is resting on top of her. She cradles the brunette’s head to her chest as she catches her breath, Cosima’s cheek sticking to her slick skin. She passively strokes the spectacled girl’s hair and takes a moment to enjoy their level of closeness. Cosima’s fingers are still inside of her when they hear the doorbell ring and she whines when she feels her remove them.

“That’ll be the pizza,” Cosima remarks.

Her whine becomes louder as Cosima attempts to move out of her grasp. She pulls the brunette back down into her arms, grabbing the shorter girl’s hand and bringing it to her lips to taste her own wetness on her fingers, ripping another moan from Cosima’s throat. They’re both able to forget about the pizza for a minute, until another series of ringing begins.

“I’ll be back in a second,” Cosima promises with a grin. “Besides. If I know you at all, you’re probably starving. You’re always hungry after you come.”

Delphine blushes, then reluctantly releases her lover. Cosima rushes up the stairs, huffing all the way to the door. She swings it open and is met by a tall, gangly boy around her age with crooked teeth and a nervous leg.

“Oh. Hey, Scott,” she greets.

“Hi, Cosima,” he says almost too eagerly.

“Since when do you deliver pizza?” she asks.

“My parents said I have to start saving for college, so...”

Cosima nods, handing him a few bills.

“Did you finish those Calc questions yet?” he asks, accepting the money and handing her the pizza.

“Oh. No. I was gonna work on them tonight, but then my parents took off for the night and I sort of made other plans.”

“We should work on them together,” he suggests, giggling awkwardly. “I get off work in a couple of hours. I could come over if--”

“Cosima!” Delphine calls.

Scott immediately stops speaking, looking somewhat surprised.

“Hurry up and finish what you started!” she adds.

Cosima shrugs, flashing him a crooked grin.

“Like I said. Other plans.”

“O-Okay. Well, maybe some other time, then.”

“Maybe,” she replies, slowly closing the door on him.

She doesn’t mean to be rude, but with Delphine calling to her, she hardly has time for patience. As she descends down the stairs back into the basement, pizza in hand, she nearly drops the box when she finds the blonde, sans clothing, sprawled out on the couch.

“Whoa.”

She smiles lazily at the brunette, beckoning for her to approach. Cosima obeys, placing the box on the floor as she saunters over to her girlfriend. Delphine reaches, catching her by the waistband of her harem pants and pulling her forward, Cosima nearly losing her footing in the process. She finds her balance again as Delphine continues to toy with her waistband, gently kissing the patch of exposed skin right above her navel and below the hem of her crop top. Both of her hands come to rest on Delphine’s head, lovingly brushing away a few strands as the blonde continues to shower her stomach with affection. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, allowing herself to enjoy the sensation of Delphine’s teasing kisses, until she feels her girlfriend’s fingers finally dip beneath her waistband.

“You know... you don’t have to...,” she begins.

They haven’t been dating for very long and she knows that the blonde is still somewhat hesitant in many ways. Their first time together, she was too nervous to even allow Cosima to remove her bra and panties. In fact, the first few times consisted of Cosima bringing the French girl to climax and Delphine being too shy and unsure to reciprocate, unconfident in her own abilities with another girl. She’s very much aware that in the half a semester they’ve been dating, Delphine has never once gone down on her. She doesn’t mind all that much; she’s more than happy to spend hours pleasing the willowy blonde and she would never want to force Delphine into a situation where she felt uncomfortable.

“I want to,” Delphine answers, tugging the pants down Cosima’s legs, along with her panties.

“Are you sure?” she asks skeptically.

Delphine nods against her stomach.

_“Oui.”_

She steps out of the garments and Delphine presses a kiss to the soft patch of curls right above her center. She groans softly, her hands finding Delphine’s head again, careful not to be too forceful. She toys with blonde tresses as Delphine slowly makes her way lower, finally pressing a kiss to where she’s most needed.

_“Shit, Del,”_ she moans.

“What... would you like me to do?” the blonde asks, looking up at Cosima for guidance.

“I don’t care. Anything,” she whines, caressing the side of her face. “Just... keep touching me.”

Delphine nods. 

She forces Cosima’s legs apart to give her better access, then experimentally drags her tongue through the accumulating wetness, Cosima’s knees nearly buckling at the gesture. She takes it as a sign of encouragement and slowly begins to lap away, familiarizing herself with Cosima’s taste. There were many times, especially after Cosima had finished with her, that she wanted to reciprocate, but every time she started moving south, she often found herself feeling overwhelmed by the prospect. There was something about going down on another woman that she found intimidating. Cosima had told her that it was normal, that everyone felt like that at first, that there was no rush and those feelings would eventually go away. As she tastes Cosima sweet on her tongue and hears her breathy sighs, all of her senses intensified, she feels her anxiety surrounding the entire deed float away.

She reaches forward and grabs Cosima by the knee. She nearly knocks the brunette off balance, but Cosima eventually interprets her intent, propping her leg up on the couch to give the blonde even more access. She buries her face in Cosima’s sex, using the tip of her tongue to toy with her clit, just like Cosima had done so many times with her. She was a quick study, mentally taking notes every time Cosima would pleasure her with her mouth; she tried her best to emulate Cosima’s technique, the way she would tease the nub in an almost torturous manner before finally taking it between her lips and sucking with just enough pressure to reduce the blonde to a pile of throaty moans and shaky limbs.

“Just like that,” she hears Cosima sigh, her grip on her head becoming even tighter. “That's perfect... don't stop...”

She continues to swirl her tongue around the bundle of nerves, her hands gliding from Cosima’s hips, reaching around to cup her ass and pull her even closer. She can feel the brunette’s body quivering and she knows that she’s close despite not having the advantage of her fingers buried deep inside of her to feel her walls clench. She tastes Cosima coming and it’s different, but just as glorious. As she sucks greedily at her clit, Cosima cries out, a harsh wail, and nearly pulls out a chunk of Delphine’s hair in the process. The force of her orgasm sends her forward and she falls into Delphine, who manages to catch her and slowly lower her onto the couch.

“And to think,” Cosima muses, smiling and spent, brushing a bead of sweat from her brow. “You were all worried and shit.”

Delphine returns her smile, wiping the residue from her mouth.

“That was...,” she begins, searching for the right word. “Good.”

“Good?” Cosima asks, feigning offense.

“It was different than I expected,” Delphine tries to clarify. “I thought it would be... I don’t know... _messy._ ”

“Messy?”

They both laugh at the notion.

Cosima looks up at her with glimmering eyes, toying with a vagrant lock.

“You always look at me like that,” Delphine speaks.

“Like what?” Cosima asks, leaning her head far enough forward so she can press a kiss to the hollow of the blonde’s throat.

“Like you’re seeing me for the first time all over again.”

Cosima chuckles against her throat.

“When you say it like that, you make me sound like some sort of cheese ball.”

Delphine smiles.

“I like it. It makes me feel special,” she admits.

“Well, you are special.”

She settles her head against Cosima’s sternum with a sigh. The brunette maneuvers her way out of her shirt and bra with minimal disturbance to the blonde, so that they’re finally skin-to-skin. 

“I’m really not all that special,” she mumbles.

Cosima reaches down, fingers finding the taller girl’s chin so she can tilt her head, angling her lips to meet hers in a soft kiss.

“You are to me,” she confesses.

Delphine beams.

_“Le renard.”_

“Huh?”

“From _Le Petit Prince._ The fox,” she clarifies.

“What are you going on about?” Cosima asks, staring at her blankly.

Delphine closes her eyes, quiet laughter escaping lips which are drawn in a coy smile. She shakes her head, dismissing Cosima’s question, ignoring her growling stomach and thundering heartbeat, and allows herself to be held.


	4. And The Rest Is Rust (And Stardust)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** Hey again! Sorry about such a long wait between updates. I really only get a chance to write these one shots when I have some free time and I'm not working on my other fics. Decided to take a bit of a break from those to pound this one out. Sexy, smutty, museum time! I hope you all enjoy. The response has been quite overwhelming, I must say :)

“This is so lame!”

The tall, slender blonde glares at the dark haired boy as he taps against one of the glass displays and vocalizes his growing boredom. While most students, like the young man in question, saw field trips as an excuse to ditch class for an afternoon, she had been looking forward to this trip for weeks now and was becoming increasingly annoyed by the total lack of regard her poor company had for the wonders that were encased all around them.

“Why do I care about a bunch of retarded monkeys?” he asks, garnering the laughter of the group of teenagers surrounding him.

“They’re not monkeys,” she corrects, trying to mask her irritation. “They’re called Neanderthals.”

“Whatever. Monkey-people, then. Did we actually evolve from these ugly bastards?”

Once again, his friends begin to laugh at his foolishness.

“Actually, they’re a completely different species than modern humans,” she tries again to explain. “Neanderthals and Homo Sapiens even existed simultaneously, but Neanderthals eventually died out around 30,000 years ago. However, somewhere down the line, Homo Sapiens did mate with Neanderthals. Scientists have--”

“Jesus, Textbook,” he scoffs.

It had become a nickname of hers, one she couldn’t seem to shake, all relating back to her tendency of explaining chunks of information with great accuracy to her less-informed peers, much like a science textbook. As the boy and his ignorance continue to test her patience, she does her best to refrain from breaking into one of the displays, stealing the makeshift spear and impaling him with it. 

Cosima would get a real kick out of that.

“Nobody cares!”

She can feel her face begin to flush with anger and she opens her mouth to snap at him one last time, but before she can say anything, he begins to walk away, heading into the next room of the exhibit and taking his snickering friends with him.

“ _I_ care,” she silently protests. “Cosima cares, too.”

She turns to glance around the room, only there’s no sight of her ally. Come to think of it, she hasn’t seen Cosima since they first got off the bus. It’s surprising, because she knows how exited the brunette was about a trip to the museum; she had promised on many occasions to take the transfer student herself, ecstatic about a new exhibit that was coming.

“Dude, I can’t wait to show you,” she had beamed.

“You keep saying that. When will you actually take me?” Delphine had whined.

“Why do _I_ gotta take you?”

“Because you promised that you would.”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have to _take_ you anywhere. You’re a big girl. You could always take yourself if you really wanted.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Oh yeah?”

_“Oui._ I want _you_ to take me.”

“Oh, I can take you.”

She had lightly swatted the cheeky young girl atop her head with her notebook and was met by a mock proclamation of pain and a fit of giggles. As the memory of the exchange flashes through her mind, a coy smile creeps across her face. She has no idea where Cosima has wandered off to, but she’s certain that the clever girl is definitely planning something.

She takes her time exploring the room thoroughly, examining each exhibit for several minutes, reading the descriptions and listening to the informative voice speaking to her through the museum headset. By this point, the rest of her classmates had rushed ahead to the museum cafe or gift shop, determined to make the most out of their free afternoon.

“Hey! Delphine!”

The blonde whips her head around, searching for the source of the sound. She recognizes the voice immediately, although she is unable to spot its owner. Confused, she continues to glance around the large, open room, looking for a sign.

“Over here!”

She’s finally able to pinpoint the voice, tracing it to the head poking out from behind a large, red curtain. 

“Cosima! What are you doing back there?” she asks, removing her headphones and scanning the room to make sure no one else is watching. “The sign says it’s off limits!”

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m exploring,” the spectacled girl answers with a crooked grin.

She winds her headphones around the audio guide and deposits it in the nearby collection bin, then cautiously approaches her eager classmate, uncertain of her intentions. She stops right in front of the curtain which is concealing an opening leading to a whole other part of the museum, one which is undoubtedly off limits, as indicated by the several signs surrounding it.

“You’re going to get in trouble,” she lightly scolds, folding her arms over her chest. “ _Non,_ you’re going to get us _both_ in trouble.”

Ignoring the French girl’s protests, Cosima lunges forward and grabs Delphine’s wrist, pulling her beyond the curtain and past the point of no return. The blonde’s chest begins to bubble with panic as she tries to vocalize her mortification, failing to form more than a stammer of protest as Cosima drags her down a long, dark corridor. Stronger than her fear of repercussion, however, is the sting of excitement, the bite of danger that sends her heart into overdrive. 

Of course, she’ll never admit this to the brunette. 

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Cosima teases.

“I left it back in France,” she deadpans, a pout on her face.

“Ha!” Cosima snorts, stopping on her journey so she can turn and face the French girl, a pleased smile plastered on her face. “You made a joke. A funny one, too. Guess I’m rubbing off on you... not that you seem to mind...”

She smacks Cosima on the arm.

“Ow!” the brunette laughs, rubbing the point of impact. “You know, I don’t know if this relationship is going to work out if you keep abusing me like this. Oprah says that if he hits you once, he’ll hit you again, and I can’t help but feel her angle isn’t gender-exclusive--”

Her speech is cut off by another teasing blow, this time to the back of her head.

“Hey!”

“Don’t be angry,” Delphine replies. “I’m simply validating your theory.”

“It’s not _my_ theory. It’s Oprah’s.”

“Well, Oprah is correct, then.”

“Of course. Oprah knows everything.”

Her guise of displeasure slowly begins to crack as the smallest smile peaks out from behind, acknowledging the shorter girl’s wit that she adores so much. It’s faint, but just enough to catch Cosima’s eye and propel her forward, placing a quick kiss on her classmate’s cheek. She withdraws just as quickly, giving the blonde no time to react, instead flashing her a wink and slipping her hand back into Delphine’s as she continues to lead her toward their destination.

“We’re going to get caught,” Delphine whispers harshly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Cosima replies. “My uncle runs this place and everyone here knows me. They let me come back here all the time. It’s totally cool.”

“Really?” Delphine inquires skeptically.

“What, you think I just make a habit of sneaking into unauthorized places and being a general shit-disturber?” she counters with raised eyebrows.

“I never know with you.”

“Fair,” she shrugs. “But that’s why you like me so much, huh?”

Delphine hums in response, distracted by the faint promise of light up ahead. When they finally reach a set of glass doors, Cosima stops and grins in her direction. Before the taller girl has a chance to question her intentions, Cosima maneuvers herself around Delphine until she’s standing behind her. She reaches up so that her hands are covering the French girl’s eyes, only the height difference has her awkwardly straddling Delphine from behind. They both begin to laugh at the ridiculousness of their position.

“No peaking!” Cosima explains. “There’s something really cool I want to show you.”

“I won’t,” Delphine replies, slouching down quite a bit lower so that Cosima’s hands remain a viable shield. “Can’t I just close my eyes? It would be less physically straining on the both of us.”

“Hmm,” Cosima says, considering her proposition. “How do I know you’ll keep them closed?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Cosima is silent for a moment.

She releases her hold on Delphine and, as promised, the blonde keeps her eyes clamped shut. 

“There’s one way to make sure you’ll keep your eyes closed...”

She feels a light gust of wind as Cosima brushes by her and she hears the set of doors open, patiently awaiting her instructions. A couple of minutes pass and she can hear Cosima fiddling with something inside, lightly cursing under her breath as she tries to figure out whatever it is she’s tampering with. The slender young girl is still standing in the same spot with her eyes closed, her patience quickly dwindling. As she’s about to speak, she feels a set of arms slip around her neck and she lowers her head slightly, correctly anticipating a set of lips in the dark.

The kiss starts off chaste enough, as their sessions usually do, with their lips gently brushing against each others in a familiar pattern. She feels Cosima slowly back up through the set of doors, pulling her with her while keeping their lips locked.

“Clever,” she smiles against the brunette’s lips. 

“I thought so, too.”

The cockiness sets off a spark in the pit of her stomach and she finds herself pushing into the kiss even more, her tongue prying at Cosima’s lips. Her arms wrap around the shorter girl’s torso as they continue their slow expedition into the mystery room, the cooler air immediately hitting her. Their hips press together and Cosima’s jaw goes slack, allowing the French girl the access she craves; she wastes no time in exploring every aspect of her lover’s mouth, coaxing out a chesty moan of approval. Her hands then drop to Cosima’s ass, gripping tightly and pulling her even closer, feeling the cocky girl shudder against her as their hips grind. It takes every ounce of willpower for Cosima to finally pull away.

“Jesus,” she breathes.

Delphine sighs contentedly as she slowly opens her eyes to peer into deep brown ones staring back at her, swimming with affection. That’s when she catches a hint of the glimmer above her. Curious, she lifts her head until she’s staring at the ceiling, her mouth falling slightly agape; above them in the darkened room is some sort of holographic projection of space, stars glimmering with fabricated intensity that seems so close to the real one.

“Cosima...,” she begins, not knowing what else to say.

She steps away from the shorter girl, slowly wandering around the room, her eyes fixated on the images projected above their heads. There are a few glass cases with galactic treasures enclosed; meteorites, minerals and other samples, as well as equipment from the ISS.

“Cool, huh?” Cosima asks. “The exhibit’s not set to open for a couple more weeks, but my uncle showed me this the other day and I knew you had to see it.”

She nods, lifting her hands as if to touch the stars; they may be significantly closer than their real-life counterparts, but the ceiling is still far too high for her to even come close to reaching them. Still, her smile is wide and wondrous.

“It’s beautiful,” she remarks.

Cosima hums in agreement, following closely behind as Delphine continues to meander through the large and open room.

“You know, there’s even more to the exhibit if you wanna see it,” the brunette offers. “I just like this part the best.”

Delphine is still too engrossed by the vastness of their environment to even consider moving on to the next room. Cosima simply smiles and watches closely with awe and adulation, as transfixed by Delphine as the blonde is by the projected images. When she is finally able to pull her eyes away, she spies Cosima watching her and feels her face goes flush. She tries to hide behind her wild mane of curls which fall over her face, but Cosima approaches fast, brushing the strands away.

“I’d prefer to stay here,” Delphine confesses, brushing noses with the brunette.

Cosima nods. 

She moves from cocky to tender, from playful curiosity and biting wit to an intense seriousness, and she does it all with such smoothness, with such a seamless transition that Delphine sometimes wonders if there is more than one version of the girl standing before her. It catches her off guard every single time, sending her into another dizzying spiral of infatuation and she thinks she’ll never regain her bearings.

“So you like my surprise?” 

_“Oui. C’est parfait,”_ she replies, cupping Cosima’s face in her hands. _“Merci, mon amour.”_

“Mmmm,” Cosima beams, subtly licking her lips. “I love it when you do that.”

“Do what?” the oblivious blonde asks, her eyes dropping to Cosima’s lips which are oh so close to her own and begging for attention.

“Speak French,” Cosima clarifies, her smiling widening even further when she realizes where Delphine’s attention is.

“Oh. I sometimes forget that I’m doing it,” she confesses.

She prides herself on her near-perfect English (aside from a few hard-to-pronounce words and foreign idioms that Cosima teases her relentlessly for), but when she finds herself caught up in the swell of her emotions, it seems she can only think and speak in French; words have more weight when they’re spoken in her mother tongue.

“Well, it’s totally hot.”

She laughs softly, rolling her eyes.

“You’re a typical American,” she teases, tracing Cosima’s bottom lip with the pad of her thumb.

“Yeah, but I’m _your_ American,” she retorts, the very tip of her tongue darting out to meet Delphine’s digit. “And you’re my girl.”

She takes note of how quickly the brunette’s eyes darken, how her lips part slightly when beckoned by her thumb and she lunges forward, crushing her lips into Cosima’s. Their teeth clash together initially, the abruptness catching the brunette off guard, but she responds nonetheless, her hands slipping into Delphine’s curls to find purchase as she sinks into the sensation of the European’s velvet tongue. The blonde’s hands glide under her shirt and up the smooth skin of her back, her nails scratching lightly as Cosima groans.

“Say it again,” she whispers breathlessly, her fingers playing with the hem of Cosima’s pants.

The French girl has never been this forceful before, at least when it comes to her affection. She’s always been coy and somewhat reserved, allowing Cosima to make the first move, letting the shorter girl guide and coax her out of her shell. While this outburst is unexpected, Cosima is nothing but appreciative at the change of pace; this wasn’t exactly what she had been planning when she decided to bring Delphine back here but she definitely isn’t going to stop it now that it’s well underway.

“You’re my girl.”

Nimble fingers work at the button of Cosima’s pants, then glide the zipper down painstakingly slow, the sound of which seems to echo through the open room. The shorter girl’s eyes dilate even further and she licks her lips in anticipation, watching as Delphine slowly dips her hand inside, beneath the waistband of her panties. 

_“Encore,”_ Delphine demands, the very tips of her fingers ghosting over Cosima’s wetness.

“Mine,” she whimpers, her eyes clamping shut.

Delphine rewards her by encircling her clit and Cosima can’t contain the loud moan that comes ripping out of her chest. Her legs begin to quiver as Delphine continues to tease, not applying nearly enough pressure to satiate the heat that’s radiating from her pelvis. Deciding that she has to do _something_ to take her mind off of those wicked fingers, her hands reach for the hem of Delphine’s shirt, forcing the blonde to abandon her ministrations momentarily so she can lift her arms above her head to aid in its removal.

“I gotta admit,” Cosima pants, her signature, cocky grin returning. “I’ve kinda always wanted to fuck in the museum.”

“Is that so?” Delphine husks, forcing Cosima backwards until she feels something solid pressing into her lower back.

The French girl nods, following Cosima’s lead and helping her lover out of her shirt. Once its discarded, she reaches for the underside of Cosima’s thighs and hoists her up onto glass encasing. If Cosima weren’t quite so petite, she’d worry that the glass would give out, but after a moment of hesitating, they both come to the conclusion that it’s more than strong enough to hold her weight.

“Is this how you imagined it?” Delphine goads, reaching for the straps of Cosima’s bra so she can pull the material down, exposing perky breasts.

“Not really,” Cosima confesses. “But this is--”

She gasps, feeling Delphine’s lips enclose around her nipple. She’d thank God for her lover’s sudden boldness, but seeing as how they’re in a museum dedicated to science and they’re groping each other under cloned stars, she decides to thank the cosmos, instead.

“Sooo much better.”

Delphine nods in agreement, releasing Cosima’s breast from her mouth and reaching for the waist of her pants, once again. She hooks her fingers through them, catching the brunette’s panties as well, and slowly works them down long, tanned legs, Cosima lifting her ass to facilitate the gesture.

Delphine’s finger are back to her sex, gingerly stroking her folds.

“Stop with the warm up routine, will you?” Cosima groans. “The star player’s here and ready to go.”

The blonde laughs, acknowledging the cheeky girl by inserting two fingers as deep as she can. Cosima sharply inhales, her backing arching to the point of pain. She bites down on her lower lip and braces herself against the glass case.

“You weren’t lying,” Delphine whispers, her voice hot against Cosima’s neck. “You’re so wet, _ma cherie.”_

She tries to think of something witty to say. 

It’s usually a process that doesn’t require any thought at all, but as the French girl’s fingers thrust and curl inside of her, even the things that seem most natural to her -- like wit and words and _breathing_ \-- lay just out of her reach.

The glass begins to rattle beneath her as Delphine both speeds up and deepens her thrusts, nipping at her earlobe and beckoning noises from her mouth that she’s never heard before. On the few occasions where Delphine had been the one giving, it was always slow and tender. Cosima always assumed that it was a French thing; the slow build up, the seduction, the whispers in her ear and the patient coaxing of her fingers. 

This blows that theory completely out of the water.

“Oh God,” she moans, relinquishing her grip on the case beneath her and opting to bury her hands in blonde curls instead.

_“Dis-moi,”_ Delphine whispers, her tongue tracing the shell of her ear.

Her French is minimal, but she understands the words. 

“Tell you what?” she whines, tugging at Delphine’s hair as she feels her fingers begin to torment that familiar, spongey mound inside of her.

“Tell me,” she repeats herself in English. “That you want me.”

_“Fuck!”_ she cries out, her hands dropping to Delphine’s shoulders and nails digging in. “Do you really have to ask?”

“I’m not asking,” she growls, her voice low and dangerous. 

Cosima nods in understanding, more than willing to participate in this power play. She’s so consumed by Delphine that she’s oblivious to the sound of the glass slowly beginning to crack beneath her.

“I do,” she whimpers, her walls beginning to clench and swell around deft digits. “You know I do. How could I not?”

Delphine’s fingers stop completely, not entirely satisfied with Cosima’s response. Cosima throws her head back and releases a childish whine of frustration.

“I want you!” she finally relents. “Are you happy? _I fucking want you! I need you! I--”_

Her voice catches in her throat as Delphine’s fingers slam back into her. The stars flicking above their heads pale in comparison to the ones that explode inside her body as Delphine’s fingers push her over the edge and she finds herself in a state of blissful free fall. So blissful, in fact, that she’s able to ignore the glass beneath her giving way.

_“Merde!”_

Delphine quickly withdraws her fingers, catching Cosima by the waist before she falls into the case, now full of space rocks and broken glass. Cosima releases a deep sigh of satisfaction, wrapping her legs around Delphine and resting her head on her shoulder.

“Cosima... the glass,” Delphine whispers, her tone panicked.

“Huh?”

She looks down, noticing the destruction.

“Are you okay?”

She helps Cosima to her feet, the brunette checking herself first before hovering over the case to inspect the damage.

“I’m fine. Can’t say the same for the case though,” she mumbles. “My uncle’s gonna kill me.”

_“Désolé!”_ she exclaims. “I’m so sorry, Cosima! I was too forceful! It was too much! I--”

“Hey!” Cosima replies, wrapping her arms around Delphine’s neck. “Hey, hey, hey. No need to worry. I’m fine. It’s just a little glass, anyway. Can’t be that expensive to replace.”

Delphine frowns and in an attempt to reassure her, Cosima leans forward and presses their lips together.

“Don’t be sorry,” she repeats. “That was _so_ totally hot. Like, mind-blowing. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.”

Delphine immediately perks up, pleased with herself. Cosima plants a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose.

“Look at you, Delphine Cormier,” she chimes. “Breaking into unauthorized places, destroying property, fucking like a champion...”

_“Mais,”_ Delphine begins. “You said this was fine. You said your uncle... you don’t think we’ll get in trouble, do you?”

“Who cares? It’s totally worth it.”

“Co-si-ma!” she scolds.

They spend the next several minutes redressing and composing themselves, determined to flee the scene of the crime as quickly as possible. Cosima shuts down the projector and returns the room as close as she can to the state they found it in, then leads her foreign lover back out again. By the time they rejoin the rest of their class, they’re all gathered in the lobby and preparing to depart. Delphine nervously glances around the room, searching for any signs of compromise.

“Would you relax?” Cosima mutters as they board the bus.

“They’re going to find out, Cosima.”

“I guess it’s a good thing we’re leaving, then,” she winks.

The two students take a seat next to one another, their private conversation drowned out by the sounds of their classmates droning on about whatever trivial matters they’re concerned with at the moment. As the bus begins to head back to the school, Cosima stares out with window with a large grin on her face. It isn’t until she glances over and sees the blonde’s knee bouncing nervously, hands fidgeting with the sleeve of her shirt that her grin fades.

“Why aren’t you taking this seriously?” Delphine presses. “If the museum contacts the school and--”

“Seriously. You need to calm down,” Cosima repeats, resting a hand atop Delphine’s nervous knee. “What happened to fireball Delphine back there?”

She has to restrain herself from laughing when she witnesses her girlfriend turn a bright shade of red. It was almost too easy to embarrass the French girl. Such a radical shift from the creature that fucked her through a case of glass.

_“I’m not asking,”_ she says, trying her best to mimic the low, guttural tone Delphine had taken with her earlier. “She’d be so disappointed if she--”

A sharp blow to the arm silences her.


	5. And The Rest Is Rust (And Stardust) II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes:** I know I said these are all one-shots, but I originally wrote this as part of the last chapter (museum!escapades), but it ended up being too long so I decided to cut it in half and make it a two parter. Since a lot of you seem to want continuations of past chapters, as well, I may also consider doing it. I usually just get a very vivid idea in my head and then decide to roll with it and that's how I write, so I never really plan to continue one-shots. That being said, if the right idea pops into my head and I feel like it fits with the flow of the previous piece, why not? I'm also open to prompts and suggestions for future one-shots, if anyone has any funny/cute/smutty ideas they wanna see fleshed out and you feel like I could do it justice. I've been spending a lot of time working on my other fics/fleshing out how those are going to conclude, so I haven't really had any time to come up with new ideas for this collection. Anyway, this chapter is equal parts steamy and funny. Hope you enjoy! :)

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” the blonde says timidly.

She walks down the street alongside the bouncy brunette who answers her uncertainty with a reassuring grin and a bout of her trademark charm.

“Oh, come on. My parents love you. What’s there to worry about?”

She chews nervously on her bottom lip.

“I’ve never spent the night with your parents in the house.”

When they’d eventually made it back to the school after a long bus ride full of biting innuendos and playful swats, Cosima had invited her girlfriend to spend the night at her house. They’d spent the night together before on a few occasions, but always when Cosima’s parents were out of town. Spending the night at Delphine’s house was never even part of the equation; the first and only instance in which Cosima had met Delphine’s father had been a monumental disaster, characterized by a terrible first impression on both ends that led to the brunette being exiled from the Cormier residence.

“They know we’re fucking.”

“Cosima!”

The shorter girl’s bluntness and general air of nonchalantness regarding her parents’ knowledge of their sexual escapades is like a sucker punch, the shock of which nearly knocks her off her feet, or perhaps it is just her own clumsiness that has her tripping over a crack on the sidewalk and stumbling to regain her footing.

“What? They’re not idiots,” Cosima remarks, resting her hands behind her head as they turn the corner onto Cosima’s street. “They’re cool with it. It’s not like I’m gonna get knocked up or anything.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but quickly closes it when she realizes she can’t argue with her girlfriend’s rationale.

“Besides. Who says we’re going to have sex? I never said that,” she adds. “You’re just making all these assumptions. You shouldn’t count your chickens, Cormier.”

“Oh yes. We’re going to spend an entire night alone together in your bed and you’re going to keep your hands to yourself,” Delphine retorts, unable to contain her rolling eyes.

“Good point.”

They reach Cosima’s house, climbing up the porch steps. Cosima bends over, lifting up the welcome mat and grabbing the key that’s hiding beneath it. The witty girl had a habit of constantly losing her own, hence the spare one that always remained hidden beneath the unassuming mat.

“I kinda owe you, anyway,” she mutters, winking at the blonde.

Delphine smirks.

“Yes, you do.”

Instead of inserting the key into the lock and opening the door, Cosima slowly stalks over towards the blonde, backing her up until she’s trapped between one of Amalthea Niehaus’ large planters and her cocky classmate.

“Guess I should pay up then, huh?” she presses, leaning in so that her lips are hovering over Delphine’s.

Delphine licks her lips, nodding in response.

“I don’t know why our neighbours bother spending all that money on satellite television when they get such a good show for free, right here at Casa Niehaus.”

Both girls immediately cease their seduction and whip around, granting the older woman their full attention. She stands tall with a large paper bag of groceries in her arms, as well as a lopsided grin and arched brow upon her face, both of which her daughter can replicate immaculately. Her naturally wild and wavy hair is tied back into a loose fishtail braid and she wears a purple poncho to fight off the breeze, one Delphine has often seen Cosima borrow on several occasions, although it looks much larger on the younger girl.

“Hey, mom.”

“Hey, kitten,” her mother replies, ascending up the porch steps to greet them more formally.

She presses a kiss to Cosima’s forehead, followed by one to Delphine’s.

“And Delphine. It’s lovely to see you again.”

“ _Oui._ A pleasure to see you again, too, Mrs. Niehaus.”

“I told you, sweetheart. You can call me Amy.”

Delphine beams as Cosima opens the front door, allowing her mother to make her way into the house with the groceries. They follow the matriarch into the kitchen, where she sets the bag down on the counter and begins removing the contents.

“I thought you had a class today?” Cosima ponders aloud.

“Term papers are due on Monday. Figured I’d be merciful and give them the weekend to work on it,” Amalthea explains. “God knows they lack the sense to finish their assignments early. That might require discipline, insight and time management skills that exist beyond this mortal realm.”

Cosima hums in understanding.

Seeing her mother home this early on a weekday was unusual. She was a literature professor, which occupied a great deal of her time and kept her at the university until late in the evening, or at the very least locked in her study grading papers, preparing lectures or working on publishing a new journal. While some children would be bitter about their mother’s hectic work schedule, Cosima didn’t really mind it all that much; she was always an independent child and Amalthea’s academic engagements meant that she was given ample space, especially when her mother was away at a conference. She often used the opportunity to have her own evenings with Delphine.

“How was your day?” she asks, looking over her shoulder to acknowledge her daughter.

“It was pretty excellent,” Cosima replies while stuffing her hands in her pockets.

“You had that trip to the museum today, right?”

“Yep.”

“How did that go?” 

“It was... _earth-shattering_ ,” Cosima answers with a shit-eating grin, glancing over to the blonde who tries to hide her reddening cheeks. “A real _breakthrough_.”

“Are you being a smart-ass?” her mother asks knowingly, stuffing a carton of milk, a dozen eggs and a bag of carrots into Cosima’s arms.

“When am I not?” Cosima throws back, heading over to the fridge to put the food away.

“Delphine, would your parents put up with this?”

“Definitely not,” Delphine retorts with a coy smile.

“See? You take advantage of us, kitten.”

“Well, yeah. I’m your daughter. I’m supposed to take advantage of you,” Cosima reasons, closing the fridge door and leaning back against it. “I’m still bitter I didn’t get a car and a televised party for my sweet sixteen. But you don’t see me throwing tantrums, do you? You see, I’m practically an angel.”

“Your dad should be home in an hour or so,” her mother says, absently pushing Cosima out of the way to open the fridge. “I’m going to start dinner.”

“Sure thing.”

Cosima wraps an arm around Delphine’s, slowly leading her out of the kitchen and towards the set of stairs leading up to her room.

“Delphine, shall I set an extra plate?” her mother calls.

“That’s a yes,” Cosima answers. “Actually, Delphine’s gonna spend the night, too.”

“Is that right, Cosima?”

The two girls freeze on the staircase as Amalthea appears in the doorway of the kitchen, one hand on her hip while the other holds an eggplant. She shoots Cosima an unimpressed look and they both can tell by her posture and tone of voice that she is less than amused by her daughter springing such news upon her.

“It’s a Friday. We don’t have school tomorrow,” Cosima justifies.

“I love how you suddenly feel that you dictate the rules of this house.”

“What rules?” she scoffs.

Her mother halfheartedly throws the eggplant in her direction, an assault that she’s able to easily duck. The blonde is shocked by the gesture while the brunette is clearly used to it, shrugging it off and offering her mother a toothy grin.

“You’re more than welcome to stay, Delphine,” Amalthea clarifies. “I’d simply appreciate it if _someone_ asked permission every now and then.”

“It’s better to ask for forgiveness than it is to ask for permission. You taught me that.”

“Go upstairs.”

She resumes her hold on Delphine’s arm and the two race up the stairs until they reach the top. Cosima leads them down the hallway until they reach her room, inviting the European inside.

“You’re a spoiled brat, you know that?” Delphine giggles.

“Yep.”

Delphine sinks down into one of Cosima’s beanbag chairs as her hostess glides across the room to her desk, plugging her iPod into her speaker system. A mellow, pulsating electro beat begins to play, just loud enough to drown out any other sounds that might alert intruding ears. The blonde smiles at this, knowing full well the reasoning behind her girlfriend’s tactics. Cosima then moves over to her large bed, taking a seat on the edge. She stares at Delphine expectantly, waiting for the French girl to move, but Delphine matches her gaze with a cocked head.

“Come sit,” Cosima says, patting the spot next to her on the bed.

“I already have a seat.”

“But it’s so far away,” she whines. “And my bed is so much better.”

Delphine sighs, reclining back. 

Her eyes focus on the cluster of plastic, glow-in-the-dark stars that are stuck to the ceiling and her grin grows wider, thinking of their earlier misadventure at the museum. Cosima’s room is so different from her own, but it suits the clever young woman; while Delphine’s still carries the hint of her childhood, with pink walls, a matching bedroom set complete with a canopy and an army of stuffed animals, Cosima’s has been tailored to suit her eclectic taste. Among the fake glowing stars are a series of lava lamps and Chinese lanterns that always seem to give the room a warm glow. Delphine remembers the very first night they spent together, how the muted warmness from these sources was the only thing that lit up the darkened room as she felt Cosima enter her for the first time, as well as the smell of incense which the brunette was constantly burning to offset the smell of marijuana. She remembers thinking that room had distinct slant, sort of like a carnival funhouse, but she isn’t sure if the room itself is slanted or if it’s just Cosima’s aura that bends the light around her and makes it appear as so. There are a couple of beanbag chairs placed strategically throughout the room (one of which Delphine currently occupied), and the impressive stereo system that deviated from the rest of the room’s dated feel. Her desk is littered with papers and books, there’s a shelf full of strange odds and ends that Cosima had collected through the years and was sentimental enough to hold on to, and in the very corner, propped up on a decrepit-looking table (who’s steadiness Cosima was constantly asserting) is a large turtle tank with two inhabitants.

“I don’t know. This is _really_ comfy,” Delphine chimes, wriggling her eyebrows.

“Well, I can’t fuck you if I’m over here and you’re over there,” Cosima bites back.

“You’re really turning up the charm today, aren’t you?”

“Come,” the brunette beckons with her finger.

Delphine’s legs oblige, standing and moving over towards the bed. The second she takes a seat, however, the shorter girl is shifting so that she’s straddling Delphine’s lap, running her hands through golden curls. Delphine’s arms wrap around her waist instinctively to keep Cosima from falling backwards. Cosima leans down to capture the blonde’s lips in a tantalizingly slow kiss, slowly forcing her backwards until Delphine is flat on her back and Cosima is splayed out on top of her. Her lips begin to work her way down the column of the French girl’s neck and Delphine expels a breathy sigh.

“Your mother’s downstairs, Cosima,” she groans, hesitation in her voice. 

“Guess you’ll have to be quiet, then,” Cosima mumbles into her skin.

“ _I’ll_ have to be quiet?” she repeats, almost offended. “You seem to be losing your memory, _ma cherie_.”

“Mmm... nope. My memory’s just fine,” Cosima smirks, sliding her hands beneath Delphine’s shirt and feeling her stomach muscles go taut with anticipation.

“Then you remember wailing like a child in your uncle’s museum,” she teases, fighting back a moan as Cosima begins to press open-mouthed kisses right below her exposed navel. “Although, I don’t think your brain was fully functioning at that moment, so I’ll forgive your lapse.”

“I remember,” Cosima confirms, continuing to lavish Delphine’s stomach with attention as she slowly forces her shirt higher up her torso until it’s bunched just below her breasts.

“I also remember...,” she begins, gesturing for Delphine to finish the job and fully remove the article.

The blonde complies, tugging the shirt over her head and tossing it onto the floor, moaning when Cosima dips her tongue into her navel.

“Homecoming.”

The very word sends a tremor through her body and she can feel her eyes dilate into windows of blackness, her inner muscles clenching instinctively. She goes to clamp her thighs shut, to rub them together to simulate some semblance of friction, but Cosima is faster. She holds one of Delphine’s knees, propping her legs open while her other hand tends to the button of her jeans.

“See? I know you remember it, too,” Cosima rasps, succeeding in her task.

She slips a hand through all of the barriers and is met by an abundance of wetness that has both women moaning. Delphine’s eyes slam shut and her head reels back as she bucks up into Cosima’s hand. 

“That’s why you’re so fucking wet.”

_“Cosima...”_

Homecoming itself had been uneventful. 

So uneventful, in fact, that Cosima had convinced her to ditch the festivities early so they could return to her house for some privacy. Her parents were out of town, giving them all the time in the world, and the little bit of alcohol they had both consumed had given them the courage to be bold.

“You remember how much you loved it...,” Cosima whispers, tugging Delphine’s jeans and underwear down her legs and drawing out muted whimpers from the blonde.

_“Cosima...”_

It was unlike anything either of them had ever experienced before. Her heart had been slamming against her ribcage, but any preliminary anxiety was quickly put at ease by Cosima’s soothing words, her patience and gentleness. The pain was only temporary and quickly gave way to a sensation she would never be able to describe.

“How full you felt...,” she continues to tease, positioning her head between her lover’s legs.

She can feel Cosima’s breath in hot puffs against her growing wetness. She’s dripping now, she can feel her arousal coating her inner thighs and gathering on the sheets beneath her. Cosima is the only person who can reduce her to a literal puddle with her words alone, with that sharp tongue of hers and its dangerous promises.

“With me all the way inside of you.”

She finishes with a long, languid stroke of her tongue through swollen folds and Delphine cries out, thankful for Cosima’s music. She doesn’t know how much longer the music is going to help if Cosima continues down the road she’s insinuating, though. Amalthea is bound to hear them. She thinks maybe that’s what the cheeky brunette is aiming for.

“You were so warm, Delphine,” she moans against her womanhood. “So tight.”

_“S'il te plait...”_

“You came so hard around me,” she continues to goad.

There are times when she wants to hit Cosima in the mouth just to get some silence from the cocky girl, and then there are times when she never wants her to stop talking. This is one of those instances that falls in the latter, with her tongue torturing her clit and fingers teasing at her entrance. Her nails are digging into Cosima’s scalp and she can feel her insides pulsating with desire. 

Just a few more gentle flicks, a couple more broad strokes...

“Are you gonna let me have you like that again?” Cosima asks.

She removes her mouth from Delphine’s sex and the blonde cries out in protest. She’s certain that if she doesn’t find release soon, she’s going to explode. Knowing this, Cosima slowly makes her way up the European’s body, trailing a line of kisses from her pelvis, stomach, through the valley of her breasts and up her throat until she finds Delphine’s lips again.

“We can’t,” Delphine whispers, shaking her head.

“Sure we can. If you want to,” Cosima says, brushing their noses together. “All you have to do is say it.”

Delphine closes her eyes and inhales deeply.

Amalthea Niehaus is just downstairs in the kitchen, preparing dinner. As patient and liberal as the woman is, Delphine isn’t certain that she’ll be so forgiving if she hears the commotion and walks in on them with her daughter all the way inside of her.

But then, her whole body is aching.

She thinks back to Cosima’s earlier words.

_It’s better to ask for forgiveness than it is to ask for permission._

She bites down hard on her lower lip and nods, much to Cosima’s delight. She’s rewarded with a searing kiss, one that only kindles the flames of the fire the brunette started within her. They both take the opportunity to finally help Cosima out of her clothes for the second time that day and in a matter of seconds, they’re both completely naked, flesh against flesh.

“Try to relax,” Cosima says softly.

Her body shifts and she’s reaching over Delphine towards her nightstand, opening the tiny drawer. Delphine watches her intently as she retrieves a small bottle of lube. They haven’t used it since the last time they tried this and she’s certain that she’s wet enough to forget about it altogether, but Cosima insists.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she tells her.

“I know.”

Bottle in hand, she returns to Delphine, giving the blonde her undivided attention. She places it somewhere on the bed as her hand slowly reaches downward, teasing at skin along the way. Her gentle fingers tickle at the rungs of her ribs, the crease of her pale abs, and Delphine tries to obey, tries to relax all the muscles in her body, but it’s difficult when Cosima is teasing her. She’s anticipating every brush of fingers, ever gentle caress, until Cosima’s hand finally returns to her center again and she groans.

“You’re so beautiful, Delphine.”

And it’s just like her to transition from her dirty words of encouragement to tender affirmations of love and adoration. She always knows just which words to say to elicit her desired response. She showers the blonde’s neck and clavicle with kisses as her fingers trace her folds.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

Delphine releases a breath she wasn’t even aware she was holding and nods.

Cosima reaches for the bottle again, applying its contents to her right hand. Delphine watches her through hooded lids, catching the glossy sheen of Cosima’s hand and she spreads her legs a little wider in anticipation. Once her hand is thoroughly coated, Cosima begins by inserting one finger inside, met by no resistance. Delphine moans, her head falling back, and Cosima eagerly inserts a second.

The thrusting starts off gently, only a taste of the fullness to come, and Delphine grips the bedsheets tightly, trying to contain the slew of nonsense her lips seem so adamant on spilling. As she gets used to the feeling, Cosima takes the opportunity to add a third finger and Delphine’s bottom half comes off the bed. This is usually as far as they go, but the brunette is determined to pull more out of her today. Her pace remains steady and experimental as she allows the blonde to prepare herself and once she’s certain that Delphine is ready for more, she curls her hand into a duckbill and slowly begins.

_“Dieu,”_ Delphine expels, panting as she slowly feels herself being stretched.

Cosima halts her progression half way, looking up to read the French girl’s expression. Delphine’s eyes are clamped shut, her fists balled into white orbs and gripping tightly at cotton sheets while her mouth is agape.

“Are you okay?”

_“O-Oui,”_ she says shakily, forcing her legs even wider apart.

Cosima nods, continuing. 

She’s slow and methodical, patient and kind until she finally has the full of her fist inside of her lover. They both stop and Delphine’s mind goes blank as she feels herself being filled to the hilt.

“Arch your back more,” Cosima commands.

Somewhere through the haze of sensation and desire, Delphine hears her words and does as she’s told. As soon as she does, the new angle immediately grants a deeper, fuller but more comfortable sensation and she moans loudly.

“There. That’s it.”

Cosima’s voice is raspy and Delphine looks down at her with wide eyes to find deep and dark ones staring back at her. The look alone is enough to send her reeling, but when Cosima begins to roll her knuckles experimentally inside of her, she keens. Cosima tries to hush her, chuckling at her girlfriend’s eagerness, but Delphine is unable to stop the thunder that’s escaping her lungs. 

This is completion, she thinks. 

This is what it feels like to come undone and be reassembled into such a perfect version of herself.

She reaches backwards, grabbing a pillow and burying her face in it to muffle the sounds. When Cosima’s confident that Delphine can take more, her movements become more purposeful and pronounced. Delphine is writing now, uncertain of how to deal with the assault to her nerve endings, but Cosima demands more.

“It’s... it’s too much,” Delphine wails through the pillow, loud enough for Cosima to hear.

“I think you can take it,” Cosima replies matter-of-factly.

She shakes her head.

“I can’t...”

“Yes, you can.”

She can feel tears stinging at her eyes and she feels as though she’s on the verge of bursting. Her entire body is covered in a gloss of sweat and Cosima teasingly licks and nips at her breasts, the tip of her tongue catching a descending bead of sweat between her cleavage and tracing it up, reveling in the saltiness.

“I think you want it,” she says hotly against her chest.

_“Don’t,”_ she warns.

She can’t take it anymore.

She can’t take the teasing and the goading and the _infuriating fucking cockiness_ which has come to encompass the shorter girl. It’s maddening. It sends her into a fit of rage and desire and bliss all at once. There’s no room for it, not with Cosima so deep inside of her.

“You’re shaking so bad, Delphine.”

She wants to scream.

“I know, Cosima!” her mind bellows as her body bends and quivers. 

“You’re so close. I know you wanna come.”

She can feel her body on the verge of convulsing and if Cosima wasn’t so deep inside of her that swift removal was impossible, she would pull herself away, just to steal Cosima’s thunder. Even though she’s hiding under a pillow, she can still see Cosima’s smirk, hear how pleased she is by her efforts. 

She wails louder into the pillow, that is until Cosima’s free hand tears it from her face. She’s met by a pair of mischievous eyes and a devilish grin that tug at the very fiber of her being. She opens her mouth to curse her lover’s name, but Cosima twists in _just_ the right way and she has to settle for a squeak instead.

“Just let go,” Cosima continues to press.

She nips at Delphine’s bottom lip.

“Just let me have you.”

Delphine shakes her head wildly from side-to-side, like an unruly child in the midst of a tantrum. 

_“Qu'est-ce tu fais à moi?”_

Cosima is in her and above her and around her and _everywhere_. She feels clever fingers, hears throaty encouragement, sees the dull glow of plastic stars above her, smells the faintness of sweat and sex and nag champa, and it’s the combination of all of these things, this complete and utter invasion of Cosima, that total overcomes her.

Her release is like a tidal wave, submerging her completely. Sound ceases, breath becomes impossible and her vision bends. She can feel the pressure in her pelvic region slowly begin to dissipate as her muscles clench and pulsate until her body is completely drained and limp beneath Cosima. The brunette slowly eases her fist back out, careful not to hurt her lover.

“Holy shit.”

She ignores her girlfriend’s surprise, smiling weakly.

“You, like, totally came all over--”

She grabs Cosima’s head, pulling her down to silence her with a heated kiss to which the cheeky girl eagerly responds. She can feel the wetness slick against Cosima’s torso and in a pool beneath her and she knows _it_ must have happened. She’s only managed to do it once before, but there was never this much of it. She wonders how the hell the two of them are going to sleep in this bed now, if it’s possible for them to sneak by Cosima’s mother to toss the sheets in the laundry to wash, if Cosima even knows how to do laundry. A loud knock at the door pulls her from her thoughts and instills an icy panic in her veins.

“Dinner’ll be ready in five minutes!” they hear Amalthea call. “Wash up and come down!”

Cosima rolls off Delphine, scurrying over to her desk to grab a stick of incense and light it. The entire room reeks of sex and she prays that if nag champa is potent enough to block out the smell of weed, it’ll do the same for the musk. She then grabs herself a fresh set of clothes and they both dress themselves, Delphine trying to desperately ease out the wrinkles in her top and the unruliness of her hair.

“Your parents are going to know,” she worries.

“Who cares?” Cosima counters. “It’s fine. Head downstairs and I’ll be right behind you.”

“Why do I have to go down first?” Delphine asks.

“Because I need to go wash _you_ off me,” Cosima clarifies. “I don’t care if they know, but that doesn’t mean we have to announce it, you know.”

Delphine nods.

When she arrives in the dining room, Cosima’s mother and father are filling the table with the food that was prepared. As soon as her father catches sight of Delphine, he offers her a warm smile.

“Hi there, Delphine,” he greets.

She smiles and offers him a timid “hello” as his eyes slowly rake over her. She immediately feels exposed and she bows her head, trying to hide her flushed cheeks and glazed eyes behind a curtain of curls.

“Are you okay, kiddo?” he asks. “You look a little worn out.”

_“Oui,”_ she responds. “I’m just... tired.”

“I hear that,” he nods. “Cosima can be exhausting at times. I don’t know how or why you put up with her. We do it because we have to. You must be a saint.”

She laughs.

“Agreed,” Amalthea chimes in. “Where is she, anyway?”

“She’ll just be a moment,” Delphine answers. “She had to... get something.”

The two adults exchange glances and the blonde can feel herself begin to panic again. How much do they know? Did they hear them? Was Cosima going to get in trouble because of her? Whatever they knew, they decided not to make a big deal about it, instead opting to finish setting the table, much to Delphine’s relief. Cosima eventually came stampeding down the stairs a few minutes later, taking her usual seat at the table.

“How was your trip, Cos?” her father asks.

“It was good,” she replies, shoveling a healthy portion of pasta onto her plate. “Didn’t get a chance to see Uncle Bill though.”

Amalthea silently smirks, watching her daughter from over the rim of her wine glass as her husband clears his throat from the other end of the table.

“Funny you should mention him,” he begins. “Because he called about a half an hour ago.”

As soon as he mentions a phone call Delphine freezes, glancing over to Cosima to seek out the appropriate response. Cosima falters only for a second, then finishes loading her plate with food.

“That was nice of him. What a caring brother.”

“He says there was an accident with one of the upcoming exhibits,” her father clarifies. “One of the glass cases was shattered.”

Delphine begins to fidget nervously with her napkin while Cosima takes a bite out of a bread roll.

“Wow. That totally sucks,” she says with her mouth full. “I blame the youth. Too much sex and drugs and television, not enough discipline.”

“Cosima,” her mother says sternly, setting down her glass of wine. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you?”

“Me? Why would I know?”

“Because when accidents happen you’re usually not too far from the scene,” Amalthea answers with an arched brow.

Cosima throws her hands up in defense.

“I’m offended, mom. I was with Delphine the entire time.”

She turns to her girlfriend, waiting for the French girl to vouch for her.

“I-It’s true,” Delphine nods along.

Not technically a lie.

“See? Delphine’s a good girl. She wouldn’t let me get into any sort of trouble.”

“Delphine _is_ a good kid, but unless she’s trained in Krav Maga, I don’t really believe that she could stop you once you get one of your ideas into your head,” her mother counters.

“That’s also true,” Cosima concedes.

A silence befalls the table momentarily.

Delphine picks at her food while Cosima indulges and the two adults exchange another round of glances.

“You can tell Uncle Bill how sorry you are tomorrow,” Amalthea says.

“Huh? Why? What’s tomorrow?” Cosima asks, confused.

“It’s the beginning of the next three weekends you’re going to be spending at the museum, working off the damage you’ve caused,” Amalthea answers.

“Hey! Come on, now! I told you I was innocent!”  


 “Call me crazy, but I don’t believe you.”

“Come on, dad! You believe me, right?” she tries.

Delphine sinks a little lower in her chair, trying to make herself invisible, or perhaps teleport herself to safety. Cosima’s father frowns, trying to think of a way to appease everyone in the room.

“Don’t think of it as a punishment,” he spins. “Think of it as an opportunity to learn. You love that place, anyway.”

“A punishment is _exactly_ what she should think of it as,” Amalthea counters.

“Okay, but it wasn’t me! It was Delphine!”

_“What?”_ the dumbfounded European asks, turning her head to face Cosima.

The adults seem unconvinced.

“She was the one who broke the glass!” Cosima spills. “Well, technically I was involved, but I didn’t even think that stupid thing could hold my weight and she was being too--”

_“Cosima!”_

“What? If I have to spend my weekends working, you should, too!”

“Whether Delphine was involved or not,” Amalthea begins. “We’re not her parents. We can’t punish her.”

“Her dad’s not too fond of you either, Cos,” her father says. “It’s not like we can call him and tell him what happened. It’s just going to make you look even worse.”

Cosima folds her arms over her chest, pouting.

Delphine smirks.

“This is so unfair.”

“Maybe if you practiced a little bit of restraint, you wouldn’t find yourself in these situations,” Amalthea offers with a smile.

Cosima sighs.

“Come on. You should eat up and try to get some sleep tonight. You’re going to have a long weekend ahead of you.”


	6. Come and Take Your Time (And Dance With Me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** We're baaaack! I know it's been forever since I've updated this fic, mostly because I've been working on a dozen other things and because I was running a little short on ideas. Buuut, I've received a bunch of great prompts, so I'll be updating this more regularly. If you have any prompts, shoot them my way via tumblr and I'd be glad to work them in here :) This piece goes out to **CaitrinMills** who asked for a "more experienced Delphine and inexperienced Cosima," as well as **hellacophine** over on tumblr whose prompt was "getting stuck going to someone's shitty band gig" and another anonymous prompt for an "awkward first date." Enjoy :)

Delphine Cormier is the hottest girl in school, there’s no doubt about it. 

 

She watches the blonde nibble on her french fries, smiling and laughing at whatever joke the boy sitting to her left has said and she sighs deeply, quietly envisioning herself in that very spot. She _knows_ she could make Delphine laugh like that if she really tried. Hell, if she had the chance, she knows she could make Delphine laugh even harder. Her biting wit is one of her few charms and she’s thankful for it. It never fails to get her through the day, through the endless wave of insults and laughter that’s directed at her.

 

She isn’t the most popular girl in school, admittedly. She has a reputation for being a know-it-all, something which makes most of her peers quite jealous and often gets her in trouble. She won’t deny the fact that she’s also weird by most people’s standards; while her classmates spend their time participating in sports and going to parties, shopping at the mall and running amok around the city, she spends most her time in her basement with a joint and her video games, with her science textbooks and keen curiosity. She’s nearly seventeen years old and she’s never kissed anyone, never been on a date, never even been invited to a party.

 

Not like Delphine Cormier.

 

Delphine shifts through boyfriends weekly, although who really knows for sure? She doesn’t like to presume, but every week there seems to be a new boy at her side, or at the very least one trailing behind as he chases after her. Delphine is on the cheerleading team, she’s a straight A student and she’s foreign, something that definitely gives her an edge. Her accent has both boys and girls swooning and her misuse of the English language is so fucking adorable it should be illegal.

 

But none of these reasons are why she loves her.

 

Yes, Delphine is gorgeous and smart and exotic and popular, but aside from all of that, she’s kind. She’s only spoken to the European once, but it’s a conversation she replays in her mind every day. Last year, she’d made the mistake of trusting “uber bitch” Rachel Duncan. She’d mistaken Rachel for a friend, had been naive enough to trust her and when copies of a text conversation between the two of them were forwarded to the rest of the student body, one that involved Cosima questioning her sexuality in (what she thought was) private, her status as the weird girl became so much worse. She never let them see how much it bothered her, she ignored their stares and laughter in the hallway, but when she was harassed by a group of girls upon entering the girl’s bathroom, she’d waited for them to leave before locking herself in a stall.

 

It was Delphine who’d come to her rescue.

 

She’d rapped gently on the stall as Cosima tried to compose herself, tried to hide the evidence of her tears. She tried to ignore the knocking, but when that sweet, accented voice found her ears it was like she was hypnotized. She opened the door and there was Delphine, smiling. She’d asked Cosima if she was okay, if there was anything she could do to help. Cosima had shook her head, too stunned by Delphine’s kindness to even form words. Delphine offered her a tissue, told her that girls were mean and that she shouldn’t take their rudeness to heart. It had been a simple exchange, but one that had changed Cosima’s life forever.

 

Ever since that moment, she finds herself gazing longingly at the perfect creature whenever she has the opportunity. She doesn’t have the courage to actually approach the European and it doesn’t appear as though Delphine has taken any further notice of her, but it’s okay. Admiring from afar is okay. It’s all she can get.

 

“Stop staring, you twat,” Sarah chides, smacking her on the arm.

 

Realizing her folly, she directs her attention back to the people at her own cafeteria table. As unpopular as she is, she has managed to make a few friends. Other rejects like herself. Sarah is bold and brash, a punk that always finds herself in the principal’s office on a regular basis. Felix is her spunky younger brother whom she always drags into trouble with her. Alison is a theater geek who doesn’t appear to fit in with the rest of them at first glance, but her neuroses makes her a perfect candidate for their group.

 

“I’m not staring,” Cosima mumbles, rubbing her arm.

 

“I don’t know how she hasn’t noticed by now,” Felix comments. “You watch her every bloody day like some sort of serial killer stalker. It’s gross.”

 

“I _do not!”_ she insists.

 

Sarah scoffs.

 

“Honestly, Cosima. Why don’t you just talk to her?” Alison offers.

 

“Yeah. Right. What am I supposed to say? “Hey, Delphine. I think you’re hot and I’m secretly in love with you and do you wanna maybe grab dinner some time?” Like that’s ever gonna happen,” Cosima retorts.

 

Sarah and Felix exchange mischievous glances and Cosima feels her stomach sink. She knows such a thing can’t be good. As she opens her mouth to question what they’re plotting, Sarah stands up and begins walking over to Delphine’s table.

 

“Sarah? Sarah! What are you doing, Sarah?” Cosima calls out to her.

 

Sarah winks back at her, smirking. Horror settles in and Cosima flies to her feet in a flash, determined to stop her best friend before she makes her even more of a laughing stock. Despite her best intentions, the punk is only going to make things much worse.

 

“Stop! You don’t know what you’re doing!” Cosima protests, tugging on Sarah’s arm in an attempt to pull her back towards their own table.

 

“Relax, yeah? I got this,” Sarah insists.

 

She nearly drags Cosima the rest of the way until they’re standing in front of Delphine’s table. All eyes fall upon the two of them and Cosima realizes that it’s too late, so she simply hangs her head in embarrassment.

 

“Oi, Delphine,” she speaks.

 

The other boys and girls at the table seem annoyed but Delphine regards her with curiosity.

 

_“Oui?”_

 

Sarah turns to Cosima, grinning. Cosima groans, hiding behind her so-called friend.

 

“I’m playing a gig tomorrow night.”

 

“A gig?” the French girl replies, confused.

 

“A gig?” Cosima repeats.

 

She’s aware of Sarah’s gig tomorrow night, but she didn’t think the punk would wander all the way over here to shamelessly promote herself. Just what is her angle?  


“I’m in a band. We’re playing a show tomorrow,” Sarah elaborates. “You wanna come?”

 

“Please. Like anyone wants to come and see your shitty band,” one girl laughs, inspiring the others.

 

“Shut your gob. I wasn’t asking _you,”_ Sarah snaps.

 

The girl in question scoffs, gathering her empty cafeteria tray and stalking away from the table. The rest of Delphine’s apparent friends follow suit, though the blonde stays seated, chewing on her lower lip as she considers Sarah’s offer. Sarah grabs Cosima, pulling her out from behind and pushing her forward. She’s center stage now and she feels like she’s in one of those dreams where she forgets to wear clothes to school. Delphine is staring at her, _noticing her_ , and it’s glorious and nerve-wracking all at the same time.

 

“Uhhh... Sarah’s band is cool,” she stutters. “They’re playing at a bar and everything. Totally punk rock.”

 

“I’m not very familiar with punk music,” Delphine confesses with a smile.

 

“It’s a free show,” Sarah adds. “At Bobby’s Bar.”

 

Bobby’s Bar is well known to most of their classmates for the sole fact that it’s notorious for serving underage patrons. It’s one of the few places in the city where high schoolers can go to get a drink without fear of being carded. Even so, it isn’t the kind of place that Cosima can imagine Delphine ever hanging around.

 

“Cosima’s going to be there,” Sarah adds, grinning. “But with me and Fee playing, she’s going to be standing there all alone. Can’t have that, yeah?”

 

Cosima blushes a violent red, trying to hide embarrassment. Why would Delphine come all the way to Bobby’s Bar and endure Sarah’s band just for a chance to see her? The dreadlocked girl even doubts Delphine remembers who she is. That conversation had happened so long ago, Cosima was probably just another face in the hall to her. Delphine’s eyes shift back and forth between Sarah and Cosima before she finally makes her decision.

 

“Okay. Sounds fun.”

 

“Really?” Sarah and Cosima both ask in unison.

 

Despite Sarah’s boldness, she hadn’t really expected her tactic to work, either. She has to drag a gaping Cosima all the way back to their own table and Felix squeals in delight as soon as his sister informs him that their half-cocked plan actually worked.

 

“Looks like you’ve got yourself a date tomorrow night, Cos.”

 

 

 

  * \+ + + + + + + + +



 

 

She paces nervously in front of the bar, her palms sweaty and heart thumping steadily in her chest. There’s no sign of the blonde yet and she wonders if this is another cruel trick, if Delphine is really going to show up. Sarah and Felix’s band is on in twenty minutes and she knows that she promised to watch their set, but her humiliation is beginning to simmer and all she wants to do is crawl into a hole and die.

 

That is, until Delphine Cormier steps out of a taxi cab and lights up her life.

 

_“Bonjour,_ Cosima.”

 

Delphine is beautiful. Delphine is stunning. Delphine is a fucking vision. It’s more than she can handle and she groans at the sight of the perfect blonde, her long legs exposed and perfect curves accentuated by her dress. It isn’t exactly the most fitting attire given the venue, but she’s not about to complain.

 

“H-Hey. You made it,” she grins like a nervous fool. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

 

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Delphine responds.

 

“Yeah. I know. I-I didn’t mean to... I mean, I’m not implying that you’re a liar, but it’s just...”

 

She pauses, sighing.

 

“I didn’t expect someone like you to come here. You know, to hang out with me.”

 

Delphine’s face grows serious and she slips her hand into Cosima’s.

 

“Why wouldn’t I want to?”

 

Cosima’s skin burns red as Delphine maintains her grip, leading her into the bar. They make their way through a crowd of people, sticky bodies brushing against them as they head towards the bar. Cosima can hardly believe it and she’s unable to find any suitable words. Delphine Cormier is here with her. Delphine Cormier is holding her hand. Once they reach the bar, Delphine turns to face her.

 

“What do you drink?” she asks.

 

“Uh... what?”

 

“I’m buying you a drink,” Delphine clarifies. “What do you like?”

 

“You.... want to... buy me a drink?”

 

Is this another one of her dreams? In what universe does Delphine Cormier arrive at Bobby’s Bar, dressed to kill and wanting to buy her a drink? One that’s so very different from her own, she’s convinced. She’s not much of a drinker herself, but Delphine Cormier has offered to buy her a drink and when Delphine Cormier offers to buy you a drink, you shut up and fucking drink it. She replies with one of the few beers that she knows and Delphine speaks to the bartender, offering the older, tattooed man a smile and a wink. She slips him a bill and hands Cosima a can of PBR. 

 

“Uh... thank you,” she blushes.

 

_“Mon plaisir.”_

 

She sips at her beer, trying not to grimace as the terrible taste of what she can only describe as stale piss hits her tongue. Delphine Cormier bought her this drink and so she must enjoy it. Sarah and Felix are already on the stage, tampering with their instruments in preparation of their performance. Sarah already seems unsteady on her feet and a little more boisterous than usual, but the dreadlocked teen chalks it up to nerves.

 

“I’ve never been to a gig before,” Delphine proclaims, having difficulty wrapping her tongue around the word.

 

Cosima smiles. God, Delphine is too cute for her own good. How is it possible for someone like her to exist? She turns to face the blonde, matching Delphine’s giggles with her own. She’s usually quite talkative but this is Delphine Cormier. She doesn’t want to waste her time with her stupid, trivial nonsense.

 

“Neither have I,” she confesses. “This is only their second show and I missed the first one.”

 

Delphine nods in understanding.

 

“You like music, though?”

 

“Well, does anyone actually hate it?” Cosima counters.

 

“Do you like _this_ kind of music?”  


“Hmm... not really,” Cosima admits. “I’m more into electronic music myself. But they’re my friends, so I’m trying to be supportive.”

 

“Well, you’re a very good friend,” Delphine replies.

 

Cosima laughs, her tongue poking out from behind her teeth. Delphine draws her bottom lip between her teeth just like Cosima’s watched her do so many times before. Delphine Cormier has the most perfect lips, the most perfectly kissable, pouty red lips. And here she is, bumbling like a fool in front of her. She suddenly feels very self-conscious. 

 

“We should go to an electronic show,” Delphine suggests.

 

She lifts her head, confused.

 

“Like... go out? Together? Again?”

 

When she realizes what her words imply, she backtracks.

 

“Not that we’re going out!” she bursts. “I mean, this isn’t us going out or anything! This is us _being_ out, hanging out together. You know?”

 

Delphine’s smile widens.

 

“Fuck. I’ll stop talking now.”

 

“Don’t stop,” Delphine pouts, her hand encircling one of Cosima’s wrists. “I like it when you talk.”

 

Cosima’s mouth goes dry and she meets the French girl’s heavily-lidded eyes. She isn’t sure how to read the expression, if she’s reading it right, but heat shoots through her and she stares down at Delphine’s hand around her wrist.

 

Delphine Cormier likes listening to her talk.

 

“I... I like listening to you talk, too.”

 

God, she’s such an idiot. She mentally face palms herself and Delphine steps closer, her body much more present than before. Cosima finally takes note of the height different between them as Delphine stares down at her with dark eyes, licking her lips.

 

“Good.”

 

The blonde arches her neck to lean forward and as soon as she does, the entire bar is filled with the screeching noise of Sarah’s guitar. Everyone winces at the sound and the two girls jump away from each other in surprise, directing their attention back to the stage.

 

“Oi!” Sarah hollers into the microphone. “We’re Radioactive Vomit! Are you meatheads ready for us?”

 

Cosima can tell by her slurred words and the way she stumbles across the tiny stage that Sarah is incredibly drunk. She groans, instantly regretting bringing Delphine to such a place. There’s no way this night can end well with Sarah making a fool of herself. She plays her guitar haphazardly and Cosima wonders if she even knows how to play a single chord. It doesn’t seem to matter to the punk or her brother as they jump around on stage, strumming aggressively on their instruments and creating a wall of sound that blares through the speakers. Sarah bellows slurred, indistinguishable words into the microphone and Cosima glances over to Delphine to find the European wincing.

 

“Oh God,” she mumbles, her words lost amongst the aggressive sound of teenage angst, inexperience and drunkenness.

 

After only three very short songs into their set (at least she think there are three songs, there’s no real way to tell with the noise all bleeding and jumbling together), Sarah slips her guitar off and smashes her instrument against the wall, releasing a fierce battle cry as she does so. It doesn’t take Bobby very long to jump onto the stage herself and grab Sarah before the young girl can cause any more damage to her bar. She manages to usher the brunette off the stage as Felix keels over and vomits right in the middle of it. The entire bar is laughing hysterically now and Cosima shakes her head, mortified.

 

“That was... interesting,” Delphine remarks.

 

“Oh God. I’m so sorry, Delphine,” Cosima apologizes. “Sarah told me they were good, that they were practicing. I shouldn’t have believed her. Jesus fucking Christ.”

 

Delphine giggles. 

 

“It’s fine, Cosima.”

 

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry to waste your time like that.”

 

“You’re not wasting my time!” Delphine insists, placing her hands on Cosima’s shoulders.

 

The brunette instantly stops worrying. She looks up into Delphine’s gaze and her perfect smile slowly puts her at ease. Delphine really isn’t angry. Delphine really isn’t put off by any of this. Delphine is... what is Delphine? What is that expression? Cosima swallows loudly, stepping away from the blonde.

 

“I... I have to go to the bathroom,” she tells her. “Just give me a minute.”

 

She doesn’t give Delphine a chance to respond before she’s racing away to find a quick moment of privacy. She slams the door shut behind her and locks it, trying to catch her breath in the dingy bathroom. It’s a single use bathroom, though the toilet looks questionable and broken and the mirror has a crack in it. Every surface imaginable is covered in graffiti and Cosima leans over the sink, counting her breaths.

 

“You’re fine,” she tells herself. “You didn’t fuck this up. You’re fine.”

 

She hears a knock at the door and she groans.

 

“Gimme a minute!” she calls out to the person on the other side.

 

The knocking persists and she expels a frustrated sigh, stalking over to the door and unlocking it. She’s ready to give the impatient bastard on the other side a piece of her mind, but when she sees Delphine standing there with disheveled hair and dark eyes, she suddenly loses her spark.

 

“Del-Delphine?”

 

The blonde answers her by propelling forward, smothering Cosima’s lips with her own. She forces Cosima back into the seedy bathroom and slams the door shut behind them, her fingers quickly finding the lock. Stunned, Cosima tries to find the proper words, but Delphine silences her again her with lips.

 

Delphine Cormier is kissing her.

 

She’s kissing Delphine fucking Cormier.

 

Her back slams up against the wall and she groans, trying to get used to the idea of Delphine’s lips upon her own. Even in her dreams, this scenario never quite played out like this. Delphine’s tongue is teasing at her lower lip and she can only assume she wants greater access, so she parts her lips slightly and allows the taller girl’s tongue to slip inside. Meanwhile, one of Delphine’s hands finds her waist, teasing at the hem of her shirt.

 

“Jesus Christ,” Cosima mumbles, tearing her lips from Delphine’s to suck in a much needed breath. “Am I being Punk’d?”

 

Delphine moans, directing her attention to Cosima’s neck. She plants kisses along it and Cosima’s eyes flutter, heat floods her and rushes to her center. The moment Delphine’s perfect teeth sink into her supple skin, she cries out in ecstasy and digs her nails into the slender blonde’s back, biting her through her dress. 

 

“You’ve kept me waiting,” Delphine whispers into her ear, nibbling at her lobe.

 

“I... what?” Cosima gasps, her hips bucking instinctively against the French girl’s body.

  
Delphine smirks at the response.

 

“I was wondering when you’d finally ask me out,” she clarifies, her hand slipping beneath Cosima’s shirt and tracing patterns across her taut stomach. “I didn’t think you’d get your friend to do it for you, but I’m not complaining.”

 

“What?’

 

She doesn’t know what’s more overwhelming-- her confusion or her desire. Had Delphine really been waiting for her to work up the courage to ask her out? As far as she knew, Delphine was as straight as a line and despite her display of much needed kindness a year earlier, she showed no interest in Cosima. The shorter girl flips through her memories, trying to recall a moment where Delphine might have made her feelings apparent, but she can think of none. Was she really just clueless?

 

“I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

 

Delphine’s hand rises, gliding up Cosima’s torso until she cups the fullness of a breast in her hand. Cosima’s eyes roll back in her head and she whimpers.

 

What the hell is happening?

 

“The coyness is cute,” Delphine says, moaning in satisfaction as Cosima arches into her touch. “But I much prefer this side of you.”

 

She squeezes Cosima’s breast lightly and the brunette nearly loses her mind. Delphine’s hands are on her, caressing her. Her lips are kissing and nipping and teasing at her ear. How the hell did something like this happen? Delphine’s lips find hers again and she moans into them, allowing Delphine to thoroughly explore her with her tongue while her hand finds the front clasp of her bra, popping it open. It only takes a second for Delphine to find her nipple and she toys with the nub of flesh, teasing and encircling.

 

“Is this good?”

 

Cosima doesn’t even know how to respond to such a question. Delphine is looking at her like she’s her next meal and she wonders where this sudden passion came from, although she can hardly complain. When Delphine’s free hand reaches for the button of her jeans, her eyes widen. Delphine pops open the button and quickly slips her hand inside, only to be stopped when Cosima instinctively reaches out to grab her wrist before she can find her sex. Delphine pulls her lips away and stares at Cosima, confused.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“I... I...”

 

Why had she stopped Delphine? She had been dreaming of this moment for the last year, of having Delphine just like this. Of course, in her dreams, they weren’t in some dingy bar bathroom pressed against each other like horny teenagers. 

 

Maybe that’s it. 

 

“I can’t do this here,” Cosima tries to explain.

 

Delphine steps back from Cosima, her confusion still in place. Cosima sighs, her head hanging low.

 

‘Believe me, I’d love to... with you... just... not here,” she stutters. “I’ve never... you know.”

 

When Delphine finally realizes what Cosima is implying, her own eyes widen.

 

“You’ve never been with someone before?”

 

Cosima shakes her head, embarrassed. She expects Delphine to turn around and leave. She wouldn’t blame her if she laughed, either. Instead, Delphine’s hand gently cups her face, her thumb brushing over Cosima’s lower lip.

 

“Not here,” Delphine agrees. “You’re right. You deserve better.”

 

“I... what?”

 

Delphine leans forward, kissing her much more gently this time. 

 

“You deserve so much more, _ma cherie.”_

 

Delphine Cormier just called her _my darling_.

 

Her knees wobble. 

 

They both take a moment to compose themselves before Delphine leads them out of the bathroom, the two of them hand-in-hand. Cosima quickly scans the bar for Felix and Sarah but finds no sign of either of them, so she decides to abandon her friends for once to tend to the gorgeous French girl who’s invited her back to her house. They slip into the back of a cab while Delphine’s hand caresses her thigh.

 

“Are you sure it’s fine? Me coming over like this?”

 

Delphine smiles.

 

“My parents are away,” she replies. “And I want... I want to be your first.”

 

Delphine tells her how much she admires her, from the very first time they spoke. It hadn’t taken her long to sense Cosima’s affection and she’d spent a long while waiting for Cosima to make a move. She had been afraid to be too bold, afraid to scare Cosima away or make her feel uncomfortable, but she’d mistaken Cosima’s retreat to the bathroom as an invitation and the two of them laugh in the back of the cab at her mistake.

 

When they arrive at Delphine’s house, she leads Cosima all the way up the stairs to her bedroom and closes the door behind her. The room is dark and she turns on her side lamp, its dim glow illuminating a very small portion of the room. She then takes the time to light all of her candles, giving her bedroom a gentle warmth. Cosima’s lip quivers when she finishes.

 

It’s perfect.

 

Delphine steps towards her, kissing her slowly at first. She encourages Cosima to touch her and the brunette wraps her arms around Delphine’s waist. The European guides them over to her bed where they continue on like that for several minutes, slowly exploring each other within the boundaries of their clothing. It isn’t so overwhelming like this. Cosima actually has time to process her thoughts and when Delphine reaches for the hem of her shirt, she doesn’t fly into a panic. Instead, she lifts her arms and allows the willowy blonde to remove it for her. 

 

They take their time stripping clothing from each other until they’re both completely bare. She should feel self-conscious in her nudeness, but Delphine’s gaze is so loving and gentle that she feels nothing but the other girl’s adoration. Delphine trails her lips down Cosima’s chest, showing her breasts with attention. She claims a perky nipple between her lips and Cosima gasps, arching into her. 

 

This is how it’s supposed to be.

 

Slow and tender, each touch patient yet purposeful. Delphine’s hand finally slips between her legs and she shudders as she feels fingers twitch experimentally against her wetness. Sure, she’s touched herself before, but it’s never been anything like _this._

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Cosima nods, biting down on her lower lip to keep herself from crying out. Delphine is so perfect, so soft and considerate. She doesn’t want to ruin the mood by wailing like a banshee. Cosima slips her fingers through Delphine’s golden locks, lightly scratching at her scalp as the French girl continues to slowly tease her, gathering wetness on her fingers. 

 

“You’re so sweet, Cosima,” she husks against the brunette’s chest, placing a kiss upon her sternum. “I’m going to take care of you.”

 

She isn’t quite sure what she should be doing; does she lay still and focus on the sensations, on the nimble fingers and teasing lips, on her slamming heart and labored breathing? Or should she be doing something more? Her hands drift back and forth between cupping the back of the taller girl’s head and digging her nails into Delphine’s shoulders, unsure of how to occupy themselves. When she feels one of Delphine’s fingers slowly drift down the her entrance, she shudders.

 

“Are you ready?”

 

She honestly doesn’t know, but she squeaks in agreement and one of Delphine’s long fingers goes gliding into her. She clamps her eyes shut and clings tightly to the blonde, filled in more ways that she can describe. Delphine stills her hand, finding Cosima’s lips again with her own. Her kisses help distract from the slight pain and discomfort as she squirms beneath Delphine. When she’s certain Cosima can take it, she slowly begins thrusting, her finger finding a slow but steady pace. This time, Cosima can’t stop herself from crying out against Delphine’s lips.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

She wants to say yes, but she honestly doesn’t know. It’s a feeling unlike anything else she’s ever known. She’s full and she’s throbbing and she aches and it’s good but it’s also too much for her to handle, at least right now.

 

“Outside,” she instructs Delphine. “Please.”

 

Delphine nods in understanding, withdrawing her finger. She slips a thigh between Cosima’s leg, grinding the strong, smooth limb against the brunette’s center. Cosima moans, burying her face in the crook of Delphine’s neck as she rocks against her. 

 

This is much better.

 

The discomfort is gone and she feels close, closer to the blonde than she ever has before. She sinks her teeth into the flesh of Delphine’s neck and she doesn’t mean to hurt her, but she needs to do something to muffle her cries. Delphine gasps, delighted, pushing harder against the writhing girl beneath her, her hips twisting and dipping.

 

_“Yes,”_ she hisses, encouraging Cosima. 

 

She clings to Delphine for life, for warmth, maybe even for something more as she continues to ride and writhe and reel. There’s a pull that starts in her stomach and slowly radiates out, causing her legs and toes to twitch as it builds. She pulls Delphine’s face back towards her own and kisses her boldly, fully, groaning into her mouth. Her hips are moving on their own accord, bucking so damn fast that she’s sure she’ll die from the burn, but Delphine’s is such a sweet fire that she hardly even cares.

 

“You’re close,” Delphine whispers, as if sensing her instinctively.

 

She tugs at Cosima’s lower lip with her teeth, slowly working her towards the edge and in a single moment, her entire life comes undone. Her spine arches and holds as heat ripples through her, her body quaking violently. Maybe she’s screaming or maybe she’s completely silent. She isn’t sure, but her mouth is open and her ears no longer work. Her body collapses back onto the bed with Delphine on top of her and she’s panting, sighing contentedly.

 

“How was that?” Delphine inquires with a smile, peppering her jawline with kisses.

 

Cosima wipes the sweat from her hair line, blinking rapidly as oxygen returns to her lungs and she familiarizes herself with the feeling again.

 

“Wow.”

 

They both laugh and find comfort in the weight of each other, in the feel of their bodies slotted so perfectly together. Cosima counts the notches in her lover’s spine as Delphine whispers and coos sweetness in her ear.

 

“You’re so much more than I expected,” Cosima admits.

 

She always knew Delphine was perfect, but she never thought that she’d be holding perfection in her arms. The very thought has her misty-eyed and in a daze. How did something like _this_ happen to her? Delphine Cormier is the hottest girl in school, there’s no doubt about it. How did she end up in her bed, making love to her?

 

“You’re perfect, Cosima.”

  


 

 

 


End file.
